


Frail

by CassadyFlies



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Chronic Illness, M/M, Scorbus, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-18 07:31:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 82,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8153998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CassadyFlies/pseuds/CassadyFlies
Summary: Astoria was frail. That's what they said. She was frail, and so her early death was inevitable. Right?
Opinions change when the same strange ailment that took Astoria threatens to take her son.
To what lengths will Albus Potter and Draco Malfoy go in order to save Scorpius from mysterious "episodes" that claim his lucid brain several times a day, and what is Scorpius prepared to sacrifice in order to preserve his own life?





	1. Weak As We Are Divided

Seventh year. It seemed almost impossible, but yet it had happened. Seven years at Hogwarts, and they were finally going to graduate. They were finally free. Well- after the N.E.W.T.s, that is. Sixth year had been a massive headache, deciding which (“If any,” Albus insisted) N.E.W.T classes they would or could take. Too many, in Albus’ opinion. Scorpius was taking all seven.

Despite Scorpius’ obvious skill, the year was taking a harsh toll on him. He looked pale and drawn, and carried an ominous air of dourness over his shoulders. He sat hunched over the Slytherin table, staring blankly into his empty plate. “I’m not hungry,” Scorpius announced, blinking for the first time in five minutes.

“I am,” Albus countered, scooping a helping of potatoes onto his plate. He spared a pitying glance towards his friend before biting into a chicken wing.

“Just one more test today. One more.” Scorpius sighed and buried his head in his hands. “Awful.”

“The key is not caring. Whether you pass or fail, that is,” Albus informed him frankly through a mouthful of food. “Since there’s nothing you can do at this point.”

Impossibly, Scorpius grew paler. “I should have studied more.”

“You sleep in the library more than our room.” Albus rolled his eyes. “You’re gonna be fine.”

“I feel sick.” Scorpius groaned.

“I can tell. You’re green. Didn’t think people could actually turn that color.” Albus looked Scorpius over worriedly, then gave a sorry look to his meal before standing up. “Let’s go outside.”

“I can’t move.” Scorpius rested his forehead against the table. “I think I’ll just die here.”

Albus grabbed him by the back of his robes. “Stop it. Stand up. You’re making everyone sad.”

Scorpius sighed, but stood, scowling. “I’m not pleased.”

“Clearly. Let’s go.” Albus grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him quickly from the dining hall.

The June air was a welcome change from the damp chill of the Slytherin common room. Blinking in the bright sunlight, the boys made their way across the grounds, Albus in the lead with Scorpius close behind.

“Where are we going?” Scorpius asked, glancing around the empty fields.

“Hagrid’s. Said he’d brew some tea and maybe something stronger if exams were getting too bad.” Albus tried to sound chipper on Scorpius’ behalf. He knocked briskly on the wooden door of Hagrid’s hut. A moment later the footsteps of the monolithic half-giant could be heard approaching.

“Jus’ a mo’- not as young as I used teh be.” The door swung inwards, and a great wall of a man with a huge silver beard that melded impeccably into his mane of silver hair gazed down at them with fondness. “Albus Potter. An’ if it isn’t me favorite Malfoy. Come on in, boys, haven’t seen you in a fair bit.”

“Doing well, Hagrid?” Albus asked, taking a seat at the table.

“Can’t complain. Got meself a hip, but I’m takin’ a remedy. Yer Professor Longbottom’s been a help. Good kid. Used teh be dumb as a brick. Time changes us all.” He shuffled over to the stove and put the kettle on. “Exams beaten yeh yet?”

“Just quite. Scorpius has nearly done his head in over them.” Albus grinned, nudging his friend.

Scorpius smiled weakly. “I’m a bit stressed is all. I’m fine.”

Hagrid set down a tray of tea and homemade biscuits before sitting down with a groan in his own oversized chair. “Well, don’t push yerself too hard, now. Got a whole life ahead o’ yeh, dontcha?”

“That’s the problem,” Scorpius sighed. “This determines everything forever. If we don’t do well here, it could throw the future into disarray. It’s the pinnacle of our potential. Everything follows what we do here today.”

Hagrid waved his hand dismissively. “Nah, there’s plenty more than some ol’ test could mess up the future. Plenty o’ much more scary things out there than an exam yeh got ter contend with.”

Scorpius slid lower in his seat.

Hagrid chuckled. “But I suppose you two’d know all abou’ that. Messin’ with the future, eh?”

Albus grinned sheepishly. “Yeah.”

Hagrid took a sip from his mug, glancing between the two boys with a smile. “Yer jus’ like yer dad, Albus. Never could keep him still neither. No’ when there was adventure teh be had.”

Albus swelled with pride. “Really?”

“Spittin’ image, too. Both o’ yeh.” Hagrid laughed. “‘Cept this one here’s not a whit like Draco Malfoy, thank Merlin. How many fights went down between yer dads in their time here? More than I can count, I reckon.”

Albus nodded knowingly. “They’re still not what I’d call friends.”

“Understatement,” Scorpius added.

“Doesn’t surprise me.” Hagrid chortled. “Yer aunt Hermione punched Malfoy in the face once.”

“She what?!” Albus and Scorpius exclaimed in unison.

Hagrid nodded. “Saw the whole thing from right out in me garden.”

Albus took a moment to revel in this information. He’d have to ask his aunt about it someday. “It’s times like this I wish we’d kept the Time-Turner.”

Scorpius elbowed him, annoyed, but considered for a moment and sighed. “I’m sure he deserved it…”

They continued on with mild small talk for the better part of an hour- which is about how long it takes to finish one of Hagrid’s rock-hard homemade biscuits. After which, they made their way back to the castle for the last test of the day.

Transfiguration. Easily the most intimidating test of the lot. Albus was selfishly pleased Scorpius was to go before him, due to the alphabetical list. Maybe he’d be able to get a hint as to the difficulty of the test once Scorpius was done.

Every seventh year Slytherin who’d taken N.E.W.T level transfiguration stood outside the exam room. Unlike the Gryffindors who’d tested the day before, the Slytherins stood as far away from each other as possible, looking quite like scattered mooring posts waiting in the bay. Well, with the notable exception of Albus and Scorpius who stood shoulder to shoulder, perpetually stuck to each other like lichens to a rock.

The heavy wooden door opened with a creak, and ‘Lamprey, Eliza’ exited with a look of horror on her face.

“Malfoy, Scorpius.” Professor McGonagall peered at the timid student in question over her spectacles.

Scorpius’ wand promptly slid out of his hand and clattered on the floor. Albus picked it up for him and squeezed his hand gently as he passed it back.

“Good luck.”

Scorpius nodded stiffly and followed McGonagall through the door.

Albus waited nervously, eyes glued to the door. He barely breathed until McGonagall- entirely too soon- opened the door. “Montague, Bella.”

“Where’s Scorpius?” Albus interjected as Bella approached the door for her exam.

McGonagall regarded him silently, then shut the door on him once Bella was on the correct side.

Albus bit his lip nervously. He glanced around at his housemates, most of whom didn’t seem at all disturbed. Several cast confused glances Albus’ direction, and Perdita Parkinson shrugged. Albus clenched his fists and glared at the door as if it were withholding answers.

“Where’s your magnet?” Frederick Flint smirked.

“Because I just asked McGonagall for fun,” Albus drawled, casting an annoyed look at Flint.

“Think he can breathe without your instruction, Potter?” Flint countered. “Maybe he’s asphyxiated.”

“Wouldn’t think _you_ could breathe with your head up your arse, Flint,” Albus shot back.

Several students snickered.

Ten odd minutes later, McGonagall opened the door and a shell-shocked Bella Montague shuffled forwards. “Nott, Genevieve.”

“Where’s Scorpius?” Albus asked again, distinctly annoyed.

Genevieve shuffled past McGonagall, who looked sternly at Albus. “Mr. Potter, I’m certain you will reunite with your friend momentarily. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m conducting exams.” With that, she promptly shut the door in Albus’ face.

Albus’ jaw went slack. “What in the hell?”

“Reunite your prick with his mouth,” Flint muttered purposefully loud enough for everyone to hear.

“You’re gonna get my fist in your mouth if you don’t shut it, Flint,” Albus scowled.

Flint laughed. “So what is it, then? Do all Potters like a bit of Voldemort in them, or is it just you and your dad?”

“That doesn’t even make sense, you absolute idiot.” Albus glared ahead, refusing to make eye contact.

“Because of the horcruxes,” Flint explained with an obnoxious grin in his voice. “And because you’re shucking Voldemort’s son.”

“FUCK YOU!”

“Ten points from Slytherin,” a passing prefect declared boredly.

“We’ve had a betting pool going since first year,” Flint taunted.

Albus clenched his fists.

“If you’ll both just come out of the closet now, I win ten galleons.” Flint walked forward so Albus would have to look at him.

That was probably a mistake.

A moment later, Flint was on the floor, and Albus was gingerly massaging his bruised knuckles.

“Parkinson, Perdita.” McGonagall walked out.

“WHERE THE HELL IS SCORPIUS?!” Albus screamed, causing even Professor McGonagall to look mildly shocked.

McGonagall’s expression softened slightly for a moment before she once again shut the door in Albus’ face.

“MERLIN, DAMNIT!” Albus pounded his fist against the door fruitlessly. “WHAT HAPPENED TO SCORPIUS?!”

Nobody dared say a word to Albus over the course of the next ten minutes.

McGonagall opened the door once more to set free a pallid Perdita. Albus glared at them both.

McGonagall looked briefly down at her list before giving a cool look to Albus. “Potter, Albus.”

Albus folded his arms and glared.

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. “Let me repeat. Potter, Albus.”

Albus glared harder.

McGonagall gave him an almost imperceptible smile and said again, “Last time. Potter, Albus.”

Albus raised his chin, maintaining fierce eye contact.

McGonagall gave him a small nod before announcing, “Well then, we’ll have to move on. Pritchard, Fa-”

“I’m here.” Albus grumbled.

“Oh, Mr. Potter. How lovely of you to join us. You nearly missed your exam.” McGonagall gestured towards the exam room.

Albus walked slowly through the doorway, glancing around the exam room as if Scorpius might still be in there, waiting. The room was void.

McGonagall sat primly in her seat and looked expectantly towards Albus.

“So?” Albus asked.

“So.” McGonagall responded.

“You won’t tell me where he is, so I can only assume nothing good.” Albus crossed his arms defiantly.

“Wouldn’t you like to take your exam now, Mr. Potter?” McGonagall asked, though it wasn’t a question.

“No, I’d like to know where Scorpius is, actually.” Albus spat.

McGonagall sat silently for a long moment. “He’s recovering.”

Albus’ stomach dropped. “From?”

“Nerves, I suppose.” McGonagall gestured at the table before her, on which lay an assortment of objects. “Now-”

“He’s in the hospital wing?” Albus asked to confirm.

McGonagall sighed. “He specifically requested I not worry you about him.”

“Too late,” Albus said bitterly.

McGonagall lifted her quill to her parchment. “Now, as you can see, I have an assortment of objects. Each is made of a very pure substance, each has a very opposite substance. You are to transfigure each substance into its opposite, and you will be scored on the purity of the finished material. You have ten minutes. I suggest you get to work. Or, I suppose you could simply continue to pout.”

Albus narrowed his eyes, but gave up. He was no match for her. He glanced at the materials on the table. _Oh. Okay._

Water to fire, fire to water, earth to air, and air to earth.

Three minutes later, Albus tucked his wand in the pocket of his robes and glared at McGonagall. “What did he say specifically?”

McGonagall glanced briefly at Albus’ work, then looked at him with a hint of sadness in her eyes. “He said, as I recall, _‘Don’t tell my father. Don’t worry Albus.’”_

Albus’ eyes glazed over as terror chilled him to the core. If Scorpius was keeping a secret, then it wasn’t something so simple as nerves. He bolted from the room, shoving past the crowd of 17 year old Slytherins and sprinting down the hall.

When he arrived, out of breath, at the hospital wing, Scorpius was on his feet, arguing with Madame Pomfrey.

“I’m fine now, I promise, I’m fine.” Scorpius protested.

“You absolutely are most certainly not!” Madame Pomfrey made to push him back into bed. “You’re staying overnight for observation.”

“Scorpius,” Albus called.

Scorpius jumped at the sound of his name and looked towards Albus in terror before flattening his affect and attempting to smile. “Albus. Didn’t mean to worry you. I’m fine, just nervous I guess. Probably should have eaten lunch.” He glanced down. “What happened to your hand?”

Albus frowned at him skeptically and turned to Madame Pomfrey. “What happened?”

Madame Pomfrey sniffed. “Confidentiality. But it most certainly was _not_ nerves!”

“What happened?” Albus asked Scorpius.

“Nothing! I just… You know.” Scorpius shrugged.

“No, I don’t!” Albus held out his hands in confusion.

Scorpius shifted his weight, then turned to Madame Pomfrey. “Could we have a moment alone?”

“You’ll run. I knew your father. I knew both your fathers. In and out of this ward so often I should have had special beds made up!” She tutted to herself and huffed in frustration.

Scorpius sighed. “If I promise to stay overnight?”

Madame Pomfrey narrowed her eyes. “I’ll be just over there watching. No funny business.”

The two watched as she shuffled off, all the while watching them over her shoulder.

“Funny odd woman,” Albus commented. He and Scorpius sat down on the bed. “So, what happened?”

Scorpius sighed. “I’m not entirely sure, to be honest.” He picked at the hem of his robe nervously.

“Not _entirely_ sure?” Albus didn’t let him shrug it off.

“No. I mean… Don’t worry about it. I’m fine now.” Scorpius made pointed eye contact.

Albus narrowed his eyes. “Nope.”

Scorpius frowned. “What, ‘nope?’”

“Nope, you’re not getting away with this. Whatever happened that they had to transport you to the hospital wing without anyone seeing you is cause enough for me to sit here and pester you forever.” Albus crossed his arms.

Scorpius looked at him analytically, then gave in. “I mean… I honestly don’t know, but… My mom used to get them so I’m not surprised.”

“Them?”

“She called them ‘episodes.’” Scorpius explained. “It’s like… A wave of power rushes through your head. Then your vision goes black and you just sort of stand there while your thoughts spiral into insanity.” He kicked his feet where they hung off the side of the bed. “From the outside, you just look like you’re spaced out until someone tries to talk to you and you can’t respond. Sometimes she would fall down. I’ve never fallen before today.”

Albus caught the word. “Before? This has happened before?”

Scorpius just nodded.

_Why wouldn’t he say anything? Why wouldn’t he ask for help? Scorpius isn’t so proud he’d let himself hurt in silence. Maybe he-_

Understanding smacked Albus square in the face. His mother. His mother had them.

_Please, no. Not like Mrs. Malfoy._

“How many times?” Albus asked, his voice felt thick and wrong. “How often?”

Scorpius shrugged. “I couldn’t say exactly.”

“Ballpark,” Albus pressed.

Scorpius looked away. “I guess… maybe ten to fifteen…”

It was like being doused in freezing water. “Ten… Ten times this has happened and you didn’t tell me?” His throat tightened. “Ten times, and I never noticed?”

Scorpius shook his head. “No, I… I mean…”

“And McGonagall said… You haven’t told your dad? Ten times this has happened and you never told your father?” Albus’ voice pitched upwards as he fought desperately to remain in control of his emotions.

“That’s not what I meant, Albus,” Scorpius barely whispered.

“What?” Albus was pulled out of his trance.

“Not ten times. Ten times per day.” He looked back at Albus, his eyes rimmed red.

Albus’ vision tunneled. Anger and sadness pounded against his skull. He swallowed against the lump in his throat and tried to sound put together. “Per…” He would have hit him if he wasn’t so scared he’d break him.

“I’m sorry.” Scorpius looked away again.

One thought ran through Albus’ head. A horrible, selfish thought that he fought with himself not to voice. He needed to say something comforting to Scorpius. He needed to tell him something… good. But all Albus could think was this one selfish thought over and over again.

_What will I do? I don’t have any friends but you._


	2. The Unknown We Fear

_Mr. Malfoy-_

_I debated whether to contact you, since Scorpius is so clearly against it, but at this point I think it’s best I act without his permission._

_I’m not sure how to phrase this, so I’ll put it bluntly. Scorpius was sent to the hospital wing last week after collapsing upon finishing his transfiguration N.E.W.T. (Apparently, the test went well before that, but that’s to be expected from Scorpius)._

_I’m sorry to bring up such a painful subject, but Scorpius mentioned that the episode was similar to what Mrs. Malfoy used to have. If Scorpius’ life is in danger, I can’t make myself be silent anymore._

_Scorpius has also told me that he’s been having episodes such as this nearly every day, often ten to fifteen times. He’s still refusing to admit when it started, so I couldn’t say._

_Not to burden you with my paranoid theories, but it worries me that he hasn’t said anything sooner, and that he’s trying to keep this a secret. I’m not sure what if any treatment Mrs. Malfoy employed, but Scorpius seems adamantly against trying anything. I’m concerned he’s given up hope._

_I can’t bear the thought of losing him. Please tell me what to do._

_-Albus Severus_

_Albus-_

_Thank you for bringing this to my attention._

_-Draco Malfoy_

 

The end of year feast was approaching. As the last students finished their last N.E.W.T.s, the mood of the school grew calmer. Despite the return to normalcy, however, Albus was in a constant state of paranoia. He watched Scorpius like a hawk, jumping to attention every time the other boy so much as twitched. Throughout the day, Albus made it a point to keep up a running barrage of small talk just to make sure Scorpius was all there.

The first time he noticed, it was too obvious to miss.

They were sitting in the chill of the Slytherin common room, chatting idly and watching the fire lick black marks along the stone arch that shielded it.

“You know, all this time at the school, and I feel like we barely know anybody,” Scorpius mused, staring into the fire.

“What, you want to know other people?” Albus asked incredulously. “I thought we decided everyone but us was terrible?”

“I don’t know, I quite like Rose,” Scorpius frowned, playing with the hem of his sleeve.

“So you’ve told me. And her. Repeatedly. Although, I have to wonder- what exactly draws you to my cousin?” Albus wrinkled his nose at the thought. “It feels a bit… incestuous somehow.”

Scorpius nodded slowly. “Well, we _are_ fourth cousins I suppose. We’re both related to Phineas Nigellus Black.”

Albus grimaced. “Shouldn’t that be enough to stop you?”

Scorpius shrugged. “Pretty much all purebloods are related. My parents were distant cousins as well. So are yours, I presume. And so are we.”

Albus felt a bit sick. “We’re not…”

“Of course we are.” Scorpius looked at him strangely.

Albus shifted in his seat, feeling distinctly too warm in front of the fire. “That’s… too weird. I don’t like it.”

Scorpius looked hurt. “Why not? What’s wrong with me?”

Albus wasn’t sure. It was just… wrong. “Nothing’s wrong with you. It’s just… it doesn’t strike you as strange?”

Scorpius looked at Albus like he’d lost his mind. “You grew up in the Black house. Certainly you know your lineage? There’s a picture of my dad on the wall.”

Albus nodded slowly, trying to come to terms with this. “There aren’t any Potters, though.”

“Plenty of Weasleys.” Scorpius turned to fully face Albus. “Why is this so upsetting to you?”

“I don’t know. It just feels too… Consanguineous.” Albus shifted away from Scorpius.

Scorpius looked utterly baffled. “Well- I guess first of all, kudos on the vocabulary word- but… I mean, we’re friends. Shouldn’t you be glad we’re family?”

Albus stood up suddenly, color draining from his face. “Don’t call us that!”

There was a long moment of silence in which Scorpius seemed to think deeply. Albus could read every thought on his face like bold-print words in a children’s book. Hurt, confusion, then epiphany. Fear, consideration, then humour. Scorpius opened his mouth like he was about to say something, then his expression suddenly shuttered. His steel gray eyes glazed over, and his jaw went slack.

Fear pounded in Albus’ chest. “Scorpius?”

He didn’t respond.

Albus leaned down and patted him on the cheek. “Scorpius? Shit.” He searched frantically around the room for anything- anyone- that could help. A few first years were playing chess poorly, and that was all. 

“Yes?” Scorpius frowned at Albus, who jumped in surprise.

“Oh! Good. Wow.” Albus sat down next to him, relieved. “I lost you for a moment.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Scorpius looked down at his lap meekly. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, I…” Albus was shaking with relief. “I think I upset you. I didn’t want to- I mean, I didn’t mean-”

“Uh oh.” Scorpius interrupted. “Hold on.” He shuttered again. It was a horrible sight. He looked… empty.

Albus knelt down in front of Scorpius, and impulsively grabbed his shoulder. “Hey- hey, come back.”

Scorpius swayed a bit.

Heart leaping into his throat, Albus tried to steady him.

Scorpius turned gray, and fell forwards into Albus’ arms.

Albus wrapped his arms around Scorpius protectively. “It’s okay. You’re gonna be fine,” he reassured blindly. “You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re okay.” He repeated it like a mantra until Scorpius stirred.

“Albus?” Scorpius muttered thickly.

“Yeah.”

“Why don’t you want me in your family?” Scorpius wrapped his arms around Albus’ waist, still limp.

“You’re sick, we’ll talk later.” Albus tried to set him upright, but Scorpius winced horribly.

“Is it ‘cause… ‘Cause you’re worried if Rose had my kids they’d turn out like this?” He tried to right himself, gazing up at Albus dolefully. “All messed up like me?”

Albus considered that. It wasn’t exactly what he’d been thinking, but… Then again, he wasn’t totally sure what he’d been thinking.

“Hold on…” Scorpius whispered, passing out into Albus’ arms again. It only lasted a few seconds, but when he spoke, his voice was thick and hard to understand. “‘Cause you’re… If you were to date…” He groaned, clutching his head. “But you think… I mean, it wouldn’t bother me. The Greengrass family, the blood curse… That’s up to you, you know? Whether you want to deal with it.” Scorpius looked momentarily alarmed. Enough so to wake him up slightly. “I mean! You know, not you. Rose. You can date whoever you want.” He looked panicked, and his eyes shuttered again. He coughed weakly. “Haha, we couldn’t even have kids, Albus. Doesn’t matter. Oh, wow. Oops. Didn’t mean to say that. What a strange thought.”

Albus patted him lightly. “I think I should take you to hospital. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

When Scorpius spoke, it was almost too low for Albus to hear. But he caught it. And his heart stopped. “You’ll marry a Mudblood…”

Albus threw Scorpius’ pale, shaking frame away from him, where he collapsed onto the couch. “What the _fuck_ did you just say?”

Scorpius didn’t answer. His eyes were half closed and looked empty.

Albus stared at him, disgust and concern fighting for dominance. Panic from both sides clouded his mind.

“So he’s dead, then?” An unexpected voice spoke up.

Albus started, and glanced up to find Perdita Parkinson looking disinterestedly down at Scorpius.

“No!” Albus scowled.

“Well, it’s just you’re not taking him to hospital or anything, so I had to assume he was already dead.” Perdita raised an eyebrow at Albus.

Albus could never get used to her weird sense of humour. “You take him.”

“I most certainly will not.” She curled her lip at him. “He’s your… ward.”

“He’s your knight!” Albus shouted back, anger and hurt dissolving him from inside out.

Perdita just stared at him, dumbfounded. “What did you just call him?”

Albus scowled and looked away from them both, unable to face the situation. “I guess he’s right. Blood _does_ make the wizard. And he’s certainly a Malfoy.”

Perdita was quiet for a long moment. “It’s just that that’s a strangely esoteric term for a Death Eater. Which he isn’t, by the way.”

“Might as well be!” Albus threw out his arms, spinning back around to glare at Perdita.

She looked at him with contempt. “So, you’re going to let him die because of his parentage? Then you’re certainly not a Potter.”

That threw Albus for a loop. His chest contracted with shame. “Help me.”

Perdita sighed dramatically. “Whatever.” She clapped her hands and two house elves appeared.

“Yes, Mistress?” they asked demurely.

She pointed to one of them. “You, call the Healer and have her fetch Malfoy.” She pointed at the other. “You, fetch Professor Slughorn and tell him we have a medical emergency regarding Scorpius Malfoy.”

They bowed deeply and disappeared with a _crack._

Finally, she gestured at Albus. “You, get ahold of yourself and care for your friend. What do you think would become of you if he were to die on your account? Do you think you could handle it?” She stalked closer to Albus, invading his space. “Do you know what I think?” She poker her finger hard against Albus’ chest. “I think it would kill you to lose him. I think your fragile, Gryffindor heart would break into a million tiny pieces if the Riddle Baby were to kick it like his mother did. I think you wouldn’t last a week without Scorpius Malfoy before throwing yourself off the Astronomy tower.”

Albus swallowed roughly. “I’m not a Gryffindor.”

“Pathetic,” Perdita spat.

Not a moment later, there was a low grinding sound as the wall to the Slytherin common room slid back to allow Madame Pomfrey access inside. Without speaking a word, she levitated Scorpius off the couch, and began to float him towards the exit.

Albus reacted without thinking, dashing after them before the wall could close on him.

“Mr. Potter, your presence is unnecessary,” she quipped. “You’re officially breaking curfew.”

“Okay,” was all Albus cared to say as he continued to follow them.

By the time they made it to the Hospital wing, Draco Malfoy was already standing sullenly by a bed, into which Madam Pomfrey gently laid Scorpius.

Mr. Malfoy immediately turned to Albus. “How long has he been like this?”

“A few minutes,” Albus responded, chewing on his lower lip. “It was pretty bad.”

Mr. Malfoy nodded curtly, and looked to Madame Pomfrey. “I’ll be transferring him to St. Mungo’s immediately.”

Madame Pomfrey huffed. “I think that’s a bit hasty.”

Mr. Malfoy glared in a way that could freeze blood.

Madame Pomfrey cleared her throat and nodded. “I’ll make arrangements.” She exited the room briskly.

Mr. Malfoy gazed blankly down at his son, countenance impassive.

Albus shifted his weight awkwardly for a few moments before he asked, “Does- by any chance… These episodes… I mean, I’m sorry, I… I just wondered...”

“Spit it out, Potter. Has your tongue been stupefied?” Mr. Malfoy drawled distractedly, speaking in a way Albus had never heard him speak. The name Potter rolled across his tongue with such distaste- like a curse word, and it made Albus freeze in his tracks.

He pulled himself together- Mr. Malfoy had already lost his wife to this curse, and he was standing in front of the unconscious body of his son. Of course he would be a bit on edge. “Could they make you say things? Things you don’t mean?” Albus asked hopefully.

A flicker of something passed through Mr. Malfoy’s eyes. “What has he told you?”

“Nothing, just…” Albus didn’t quite know what to say. He didn’t want to risk upsetting Mr. Malfoy further.

Mr. Malfoy scowled. “He has always been weak when it comes to you. If you told him to pry out his heart, I’m sure he’d do it gladly. I can’t imagine anything he said to you would be anything less than the truth.”

Albus’ heart sank to his shoes. “Oh. Okay, then.”

“Okay, then…” Mr. Malfoy repeated under his breath. “Potter, I have a question for you in return.”

Albus nodded, a little apprehensive from hearing his surname in such a tone.

“What exactly did you say to _him?”_ Mr. Malfoy looked Albus in the eyes, looking very much like he knew something important.

Albus shook his head. “Nothing, I-... Oh.”

Mr. Malfoy raised an eyebrow at him expectantly.

“I may have implied that I didn’t want him in my family.” Albus stared at the floor, ashamed of himself.

Mr. Malfoy sighed. “Implied?”

Albus shifted uncomfortably. “Well… I may have actually outright said it.”

Mr. Malfoy pinched the bridge of his nose in exhaustion. “Pray tell, what possibly could have possessed you to say something like that to my son?”

Albus flushed red. “Just that… He mentioned how… how he was interested in Rose. Uh- my cousin, Rose Granger-Weasley.”

“Your cousin,” Mr. Malfoy repeated dryly.

“Yeah. And, ah… I said it was weird how they’re relatives- the Black family- then I sort of…” Albus gestured lamely, not entirely sure what he meant. “Because Scorpius and I are also… It’s weird, isn’t it? It’s weird.”

Mr. Malfoy regarded him coolly. “You realized that makes the two of you relatives as well, and upon that shocking realization promptly disintegrated into a stuttering mess and proclaimed your discomfort with that knowledge.”

Albus gaped. “Erm… Yeah.”

Mr. Malfoy sighed deeply. “I assume it was at this point Scorpius confessed whatever you hope he didn’t mean?”

Albus frowned. “Confessed?”

Mr. Malfoy looked at him sharply. “No? Well, then. It seems my son _has_ learned to bite his tongue for you.”

Albus was confused. _What’s that supposed to mean? Bite his tongue?_ “He, ah… He used the word Mudblood.”

“Is that so?” Mr. Malfoy knelt at Scorpius’ bedside. “In that case, I think I’ll say that his mind wasn’t right.”

“Nobody’s mind should be so wrong,” Albus muttered bitterly.

“No, I suppose not.” Mr. Malfoy gazed at his son’s unconscious form in silence for a long time. When he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. “I’m sure you’ve heard plenty stories about what happened within these walls when your father and I were in school. History favors the winners, doesn’t it? It’s fairly easy to write off the losing side as evil. Bad people full of hatred and nothing more. During those times, that’s how we saw each other. The Death Eaters and the Order. Amicability between those of different sides was next to impossible. Trust me, I tried.” Mr. Malfoy looked up at Albus, gray eyes so like his son’s, a tinge of pleading in them. “You can understand. How difficult it is to be seen as the enemy once you’ve been… sorted. And the scars of such division never fade. Whether they be physical,” he glanced down at his left arm. “Or mental.” He nodded towards Scorpius.

Madame Pomfrey scurried back into the room, and Mr. Malfoy stood. “A representative from St. Mungo’s is on the way to take Scorpius through a special floo.” She busied herself checking in on the boy in question.

Mr. Malfoy nodded, and turned back to Albus. “Forgive him. Correct him. Forgive me.” He held out his hand to Albus, an air of uncertainty hovering around him.

Albus stood there, stunned, for a long moment before he reached out to shake Mr. Malfoy’s hand.

Mr. Malfoy glanced down at their clasped hands, a strange sort of emotion misting his eyes. He shook Albus’ hand firmly once, then strode off towards the door. “I’ll be waiting at St. Mungo’s, Poppy.”

Albus watched him go, feeling as if something significant had happened, though he couldn’t say what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always appreciated!


	3. Stand Up to Your Friends

School was over. It was finally over. Scorpius had been released from St. Mungo’s under strict warning not to over exert himself or become excited. Scorpius had just shrugged and stuck his nose back in a book, but Albus was walking on eggshells. Scorpius had invited Albus to spend some time at Malfoy Manor while they both began their post-Hogwarts job search. Scorpius had been contacted immediately by the legislative branch of the Ministry, but he had turned it down, preferring to be hired for his skills, not his name.

Albus had no earthly clue what he was going to do. His main skill in life seemed to be making other people angry, but he wasn’t certain there was any demand for that. He was reminded of the haggard men and women sometimes seen on the streets, shouting at lampposts. He felt he could probably do that pretty well. He was good at shouting.

“Albus?” Scorpius asked one evening as he sat on a loveseat by the largest window of his bedroom, a pile of half-finished books at his feet.

“Yeah?” Albus looked at him nervously, checking his face for signs of a fit.

Scorpius stared at him for a long moment. So long that Albus was about to dash over and slap him in the face if that’s what it took. Then, he shook his head. “Nevermind.”

Albus frowned. He was sitting on Scorpius’ bed, which was just about the most comfortable thing he’d ever sat on, and large enough to sleep a small family. Albus watched Scorpius closely as he returned to his reading. With a pang of something like nostalgia, he saw that eleven year old boy on the train. The one who had smiled so brightly and offered him sweets. The one who’d looked so heartbroken when his classmates vandalized his luggage, fired hexes at him from around the corner, or threatened him with injury unless he pulled back his left sleeve. There used to be so much expression in his eyes and voice, and now he was drawn and empty.

“I wonder-” Scorpius began, then cut himself off. “Ah, nevermind.”

Albus stood up and walked over to him, and sat down. “What’s up?”

Scorpius met Albus’ gaze only for a moment, turned pink, and cast his eyes to the floor. “We’re not just friends because there’s no one else like us, right? We’re not just friends by default?”

Albus frowned. “Not entirely sure what you mean there, mate.”

Scorpius shrugged. “Just because… You know, during the war our dads were the same. Just kids forced to fight and asked to die for a cause they didn’t really understand. Both marked permanently in a way that would cast them forever as outsiders in fame or infamy. And then they both went off and had sons who look so much like them and we both wound up as avatars for our fathers. Because when people look at us, they say- “Oh, look. Malfoy and Potter again. How strange, they’re friends.” And they feel all that they felt during the war. They’re reminded of what it was like when our dads were our age. And we obviously both resent that.”

Albus didn’t really know how to respond. “Oh. Erm, well…”

“And I know,” Scorpius continued, “that my father looks at us and sees what could have been. I think yours might feel the same. And I worry-” He stopped himself suddenly.

Albus felt highly uncomfortable. He wasn’t exactly one for discussions of feelings, but he knew that Scorpius needed that sometimes, so he tried to do his best. “Yeah?”

Scorpius forced himself to look Albus in the eyes. “Are we rebelling? Are we each other’s only option? Or is it that we actually… I don’t know… like each other?” His cheeks and ears were bright pink, and he looked a little frightened.

Something about the way he said it made a wall slam down in Albus’ heart. Overload. “Scorpius, mate, that’s a little gay.”

Scorpius flushed darker and punched Albus in the arm. “You’re such a jerk.”

Albus laughed and rubbed his arm. “I know. I’m sorry. That was just…”

“Too much for you?” Scorpius offered.

“Yeah, a bit.” Albus sighed, trying hard not to laugh and make Scorpius angry. Last thing he wanted was to send him down the rabbit hole again.

“Oh, well. I tried.” Scorpius sighed. “It is difficult though, at times. To be Malfoy and Potter.”

“Rather be Greengrass and Weasley?” Albus grinned.

“Much.” Scorpius smiled back. “If only our world were a Matriarchy.”

Albus thought about it. “Then we’d be Black and Prewett.”

Scorpius grimaced. “I don’t turn out so well in that one either.”

Albus laughed. “Yeah, I guess not.”

“Go back a step further and we’d both be-” Scorpius’ eyes widened. “Ah. Consanguineous. I see what you meant.”

Albus grimaced. “Maybe it’s alright we inherit our father’s names, then.”

“It _is_ strange for some reason, isn’t it?” Scorpius pursed his lips, staring off into nothingness. He suddenly went very pale.

Albus gasped. “Scorpius? Hey- come on, now-”

Scorpius waved him off. “No, no. I’m fine, it’s just…” He burst into laughter. “I can see why it’s strange! Rose and I. For you. Oh Merlin, no… I _am_ related to Voldemort!”

“What?” Albus gaped at him, still a little concerned he’d lost it. “Why would you say that?”

Scorpius wiped his eyes, horror and humour in equal parts written all over every inch of his body. “Delphi’s my aunt! My dad’s cousin!”

Albus’ jaw went slack. “No way… That’s pretty embarrassing, then.”

“Oh _gods!”_ Scorpius doubled over on himself, shaking with what Albus hoped was laughter. “Purebloods should _never_ intermarry! _Never never never never!”_ He sat up, gasping, and laid his head on Albus’ shoulder. “Albus, please- marry a Muggleborn.” Scorpius wiped his eyes, sighing.

Albus grinned, though a haunting memory of Scorpius’ slip-up just the week before suddenly came to mind. He bit his tongue. Not exactly good conversation material. He put his arm around Scorpius’ shoulders and sighed. “Yeah, maybe.”

They sat like that for a long moment, lost in thought. Scorpius was the one to break it.

“I’d like to go away for awhile,” he said a little sadly.

“What’s that?” Albus frowned.

“I’d like… I want to go places. We’ve been in Scotland for so long, I’ve never really been outside of Britain. It used to be tradition, you know. To go away after school.” He sighed, looking lost in a dream.

“Do you think you’re strong enough for that?” Albus questioned, well aware of the fact that Scorpius was leaning on him for support.

Scorpius seemed to take the hint, and sat up. “Yeah.” He tried to look confident, but there was a deep pain behind his eyes.

Albus searched his features for anything to indicate he was… less than serious? Something. There was nothing. “You’re serious.” Albus’ heart sunk a little. “You’re going to leave?”

Scorpius gave a minute nod. “Yeah, I am.”

Albus nodded back. “When?”

Scorpius didn’t answer.

Albus considered. “Why?”

Scorpius still didn’t respond.

“Mate-” Albus began.

“Next week.”

Cold water, head to toe. “You’re serious?”

“I already have a train ticket.” Scorpius looked down at the floor, seemingly unable to look Albus in the eyes. “Since, you know… I can’t really apparate anymore. I’m sorry. I should have… Told you sooner, I guess. That’s why I invited you here. I just wanted… You know, since I won’t be seeing you. For a while, that is.”

_No, no, no, no. Don’t allow this._ “But…” There was nothing really to say. “That doesn’t give me a lot of time to pack, you know.”

Scorpius looked up suddenly. “I don’t expect you to-”

“I know.”

“But you-”

“Shut up,” Albus snapped. “Ah, sorry… Just… Shut up. Don’t make this weird.”

Scorpius stared at Albus with an expression that Albus didn’t quite know how to feel about. It was something like reverence. Albus was well aware of his “codependency” with Scorpius. His schoolmates had mocked it, his mother had worried about it, and a countless stream of teachers had been “disturbed” by it. Still, that didn’t mean Albus had any plans to change their relationship. He was comfortable. He liked having a friend to whom he was close enough that the idea of running off on an adventure together wasn’t such an unexpected concept.

However, Albus was occasionally made uncomfortable by Scorpius’ willingness to express his affection. Albus preferred to keep a little distance. Well, not as much distance as most people would expect of him, but certainly more than Scorpius.

Scorpius was looking at Albus like he was seeing the light for the first time. “Albus, I… I…” His cheeks flushed pink, and he reached out to touch Albus’ cheek.

Albus pulled back, uncomfortable. “Yeah, I mean… whatever, mate. Could be fun, right?”

Scorpius nodded mutely.

“So, where are we going?” Albus asked, trying to change the expression on Scorpius’ face. It was way too honest.

“China.” Scorpius grinned broadly. The masters of potion-making. China by way of France, Germany, Poland, Ukraine, Russia, and Kazakhstan. Then the other way through India, Pakistan, Iran, Bulgaria, and Romania.”

Albus raised his eyebrows. “That’s quite a long way to go.”

Scorpius fixed his expression to that of utter seriousness. “It’ll be worth it.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Albus placated. “How long do you expect…”

Scorpius shook his head. “As long as it takes.”

“For what?” Albus asked warily.

Scorpius shrugged. “Until the journey’s over. Until the time is right.”

Albus narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the cryptic answer, but chose to ignore it. “Alright, then. Can we stop by Grimmauld Place?”

Scorpius beamed. “Yeah! Of course! You need to pack!”

“And tell my dad I’m running away with Draco Malfoy’s son…” Albus muttered.

*******

The Potter family were probably the least skilled people at controlling their expressions. Everything was written quite plainly across their faces, which Albus simultaneously appreciated and despised. With Scorpius waiting outside, Albus told his family all together in one breath, just to get it out of the way.

“You’re doing _what?”_ His dad gaped.

“Bruv, that’s insanely stupid,” James laughed.

“I think it’s sweet,” Lily crooned.

“Bring a jacket,” his mother reminded over her cup of tea.

Albus didn’t respond to any of them. He just kinda shrugged and stared at the floor.

His dad took a calming breath. “You’re doing _what?”_ he repeated, missing calm by a wide shot.

Really, Albus didn’t want to explain himself. He didn’t want to pour out his feelings and concerns about Scorpius to his family. He just wanted to leave.

“See, I can’t exactly stop him going, can I?” He tried not to sound volatile with his dad. “He’s my friend, and he’s in a bad way, so I’m going with him. He didn’t ask, but… What am I supposed to do?” As bad as Harry had missed calm, Albus missed controlled.

“You’re supposed to have some forethought! Hopping on a train to traverse Eurasia with two day’s notice- doesn’t that sound a bit rash to you?” Harry gripped the edge of the dinner table, trying to vent his anger through the vice-like hold.

“Speaking of rash decisions, dad, want to talk about _your_ life?!” Albus clenched his fists tightly, jaw stiff as he tried not to shout. “Have you ever put any forethought into anything?”

Ginny laughed.

“I want you to make good decisions!” Harry pleaded.

“What would _you_ do?” Albus felt tears prickling in his eyes. “If _your_ best friend was dying?”

The mood of the room shifted palpably.

“He’s what?” Lily whispered, shocked.

Albus struggled to keep his composure. “He’s falling apart before my eyes! Do you know what that’s like? He’s so pale and thin, dark shadows always under his eyes… I don’t know if- He’s so sick, I just…” Albus cut himself off, breathing deeply to suppress the tears threatening to spill over. “If Scorpius wants to travel to China then that’s what I’m doing, too. He can’t go alone. I won’t let him.”

Even James looked sombre.

Albus broke. “I’m so scared, Dad. I don’t know what to do.” He turned his head as his shoulders tensed and shook. Hot, uncontrollable tears were streaming down his face.

Harry just stared at Albus, his immense discomfort readily apparent.

Ginny tutted at Harry and stood, walking over to embrace her son.

Albus clung to his mother like a child, burying his face in her shoulder and sobbing. “What do I do? He’s seventeen, Mum. He’s seventeen.”

Ginny stroked his hair, hushing him. She turned to the rest of the family. “Give us a moment.”

Everyone nodded gratefully and left the room in a hurry.

She spoke in a calming tone. “You’re going to do everything you can. And when you can’t do anymore, then that’s that.”

Albus choked.

“Listen to me,” she said softly. “Your father and I know well what it’s like to have someone you love go away. It’s the worst thing in the world. But the most important thing to remember is that he’s still here. So you can’t let that time go to waste. Open your heart, open your mind, and reject fear.” She moved to arms distance so she could look her son in the eyes and wipe the tears from his cheeks. “You’re going to be wonderful. You are so loved.”

Sadness beyond tears drained Albus from head to toe. He stood as a shell, feeling nothing but absence. “Okay,” he said flatly.

Ginny cupped his cheek in her hand. “Now, do you know what I want you to do?”

Albus shook his head.

“I want you to pack.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ho boy... 
> 
> Feedback is love!


	4. Forget to Live

_Mr. Malfoy-_

_Scorpius and I made it onto the train safely. He’s had a good day today, I only saw him blank out once, and he didn’t fall over or anything. Maybe this trip will be good for him. I’m looking out for him, don’t worry. I won’t let anything bad happen._

_-Albus Severus_

_Albus-_

_What train? Where are you?_

_-Draco Malfoy_

When the letter arrived, the train was stopped somewhere on the outskirts of France. Albus assumed the owl had just been flying along with the train until they stopped. Scorpius was finding them dinner when Albus opened the letter. Upon reading it, all color promptly drained from his face.

Scorpius returned, and handed Albus a buckwheat crepe filled with some sort of cheese and vegetable. “What’s that?” He nodded to the letter.

Albus closed his eyes, trying to look composed. “You didn’t tell your dad where we’re going?”

Scorpius just stared at him, seeming at a loss.

“What- ugh.” Albus sighed. “Why wouldn’t you tell him?”

Scorpius frowned. “He’d never have let me go.”

Albus stared down at the letter, Mr. Malfoy’s distress apparent in the five short words. “How-” He rubbed his eyes, stuffing the letter in his pocket. “How are you gonna survive? You don’t have a job or anything, and we’re stuck out here in the middle of frozen freaking Europe, and now your dad is probably gonna come look for us, and he’s fucking terrifying, Scorpius. Your dad is just about the scariest guy I’ve ever met.” His voice betrayed more and more anxiety as he rambled on.

Scorpius looked weirdly calm. “I have plenty money. My inheritance opened when I turned 17. And my dad won’t find us, because you’re not going to tell him where we are. Right Albus?” Scorpius looked at him pleadingly. “You’re not going to say anything.”

Albus stared down at the crepe Scorpius had handed him, feeling distinctly not hungry. “Okay,” he whispered.

Scorpius let out a small sigh of relief. A moment later, he made a weird face. “Why are you talking to my dad?”

Albus shrugged. “I figured I’d keep him updated. You know, about your thing.”

“My thing?”

“Your seizure thing. I don’t know. He worries.” Albus cast an accusing glance at Scorpius. “Plus, you won’t say anything, so I have to.”

Scorpius looked offended. _“You’re_ the one worrying him! I didn’t want to tell him I was having the episodes in the first place!”

“You’d prefer he just find you one day dead?” Albus gaped.

“Yes, actually!” Scorpius stood. “Because I want to enjoy whatever time I have left without people fretting over me all the time!”

Albus stood too. “What if we can do something?”

“I _am_ doing something!” Scorpius protested. “I’m doing everything! Everything I damn well please until I get too sick!”

Albus wanted to cry. “I don’t want you to die.”

“Tough shit!” Scorpius blinked hard as his eyes filled with tears. “Everyone dies, Albus. At least this way I get to have a say in how it ends.” He took a deep breath and looked away. “I know this must suck for you. Since you’re the one who’s gonna have to deal with the aftermath.” He shook his head sadly. “Can we just go get back on the train? We’ll be in Paris tomorrow, and I’d like to be… you know, all there.”

Albus wanted to say so much. He wanted to run over and embrace his friend, and just hold on as tight as he could for as long as he could, because he could already feel him slipping away. He wanted to command Scorpius to go to hospital, to talk to his father, to keep his hope… But he also understood. He understood exactly why Scorpius was doing what he was doing, and anyone in his position had the right to be a little manic. More than anything, Albus wanted to- and it was painful to realize- he wanted to fit a lifetime into whatever time Scorpius had left. But he couldn’t say it. He didn’t say it.

“Okay,” was all Albus managed. “Let’s go.”

They sat in the sleeper carriage on the lower bunk. The compartment had four small beds, stacked in twos on the right and left walls. Red cloth hung as privacy curtains, and it was behind this that Albus and Scorpius sat, eating dinner in silence.

The train whistle sounded, and acceleration rocked them back and forth until the train picked up consistent pace and continued on its overnight journey to Paris.

It was a long time before either of them spoke.

“Do you want to go up to your bed?” Scorpius asked softly.

Albus nodded, but didn’t move. A terrible debate was raging in his head.

_Just talk to him. It shouldn’t be this hard to talk to him._  
_I’m gonna say something stupid! I don’t wanna make this weird._  
_You won’t say anything._  
_But what if I do?_  
_You won’t!_  
_But I might, though!_

Scorpius was looking at him sadly. Red circles were bruised under his eyes, and he looked a little off-center. “If you’d rather just sit here awhile-” Scorpius began.

“No, I’m going.” Albus pulled back the curtain and stood. The other passengers in their compartment had their curtains drawn as well. Albus was privately thankful he didn’t have to deal with any questions or small talk. He climbed the ladder into his own bunk and laid facing the wall, blanket drawn to his chin.

“Goodnight,” Scorpius called up to him.

“Goodnight,” Albus called back.

The night was too long. Albus woke up countless times, unfamiliar noises from the train startling him out of his light sleep. When sunlight began to filter through the window, Albus gave up on sleep. It couldn’t have been later than 5:30 in the morning, but he knew there was no way he would fall back asleep. He momentarily considered waking Scorpius, just to have someone to talk to for a bit, but he decided against it. Best to let him sleep. Maybe he’d read a book or something. Scorpius had books. He could stand to lose one… Albus climbed down out of his bunk to borrow a book out of Scorpius’ luggage, which was stowed along with Albus’ own under the bottom bunk.

Albus listened carefully for Scorpius’ breathing, still kind of hoping he was awake. Seven years in a bed next door to him had taught Albus the difference between Scorpius’ wakeful and sleeping breath patterns. He didn’t hear anything. Probably awake, then. He’d probably heard Albus get out of bed.

“Hey,” Albus whispered. “You awake?”

There was no response. Sleeping, then. Albus unzipped Scorpius’ bag and fumbled around for something interesting.

 _Potions of the Orient: the healing properties of poppies._ Ew, study book.

 _So, You’ve Been Cursed. Now What?_ What kind of light reading was that?

 _The Magic of Maternity: How to Have a Healthy Heir._ What kind of weird books was Scorpius into?

Albus sighed, zipping up the bag and stuffing it back under the bunk. “What time is it, even?” He whispered to no one. Albus didn’t have a watch. He’d always just asked Scorpius, who was currently asleep. Well… he supposed he could just look at Scorpius’ watch. He carefully pulled back the curtain. Perfect. His hands weren’t even under the blanket or anything.

“Lumos,” Albus uttered softly, casting light into the darkened bunk. Scorpius was a heavy sleeper anyway. 7:00. Later than Albus expected. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to wake Scorpius up. He glanced at Scorpius’ face, and in an instant, everything crumbled.

“Shit!” Albus stood up suddenly, smacking the back of his head against the top of the bunk. “Fuck!” he cried out in pain.

The other passengers in the compartment pulled back their curtains to see what was going on.

Scorpius’ lips were blue. His eyes were half open, and his breathing was shallow to nonexistent.

Albus grabbed his wand from up in his own bunk and pointed it at Scorpius’ chest. “Ennervate!”

Scorpius’ eyes widened momentarily, a haunted look in them before they closed again.

“Obliviate!” Albus turned to the Muggle passengers, whose eyes slid out of focus. Albus crawled into Scorpius’ bunk and shut the curtains, casting a quick _Muffliato_ so he wouldn’t be bothered by the other passengers again. “Come on, mate, wake up.” He grabbed Scorpius by the shoulders and shook him roughly. He leaned down, cheek over Scorpius’ mouth. He wasn’t breathing. “Anapneo!” Albus pointed his wand at Scorpius’ throat and hoped for the best.

Scorpius gasped, sucking in air so hard his chest was heaving.

Shaking with relief, Albus fell back against the wall, unable to stop the sobs escaping his throat. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he repeated like a mantra. “Gods, _thank you,_ he’s alive. He’s alive, he’s alive, I’ll never let him out of my sight again.” Unable to hold himself upright, Albus slid down the wall to lay at Scorpius’ side. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!”

Scorpius was coughing violently, and desperately reached out in Albus’ direction.

Albus pulled Scorpius to his chest, holding him tightly as shuddering coughs wracked his body. “Shh, you’re okay. It’s gonna be okay. It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

“Al-bus…” Scorpius wheezed.

“I’m here.” Albus rubbed his back as Scorpius’ coughing subsided and transformed into hysterical sobbing. “Don’t cry, it’s okay. I’m here.” Scorpius’ arms were wrapped around Albus in a vice grip, but Albus didn’t care because he could feel the warmth slowly returning to them.

“I- I need-” Scorpius was shaking violently. “Albus, I- I’m-”

“Shh, calm down.” Albus tried to calm himself as well, and failed miserably. He was shaking nearly as hard as Scorpius. “Here, let’s sit up. Come on.” With a great deal of effort, he managed to hoist himself upright, and leaned exhaustedly against the wall. Slowly, he managed to get Scorpius to sit up, but he didn’t seem at all interested in sitting on his own. He wrapped his arms around Albus’ shoulders, sitting on his lap. Albus didn’t even question it. Not the time.

Scorpius rested his forehead on Albus’ shoulder, hyperventilating. “I-I-I-I-” He sobbed brokenly. “Don’t leave!” he commanded urgently.

“I won’t,” Albus reassured. “I won’t.”

Scorpius either didn’t hear him, or wasn’t convinced. “Albus, don’t leave me. Please, don’t leave me.”

“It’s fine, I’m here.” Albus squeezed him tighter to prove it.

Scorpius groaned in frustration. “Pretend…”

“What’s that?” Albus asked, not really caring if he got a cogent response, just wanting Scorpius to stay alert.

Miraculously, Scorpius calmed down. In one breath, every bit of tension seeped from his body, and he pulled back to stare blankly into Albus’ eyes. “Pretend for me.”

“Yeah, okay,” Albus nodded, relieved to see him looking somewhat normal.

“Say: I’m not going to leave you,” Scorpius demanded, urgency in his eyes.

Albus wasn’t really sure what that was about, but he did as he was told. “I’m not going to leave you.”

“Say: I’ll be here forever.” Scorpius’ expression didn’t change, but tears resumed rolling down his face.

“I’ll be here forever,” Albus repeated carefully.

“Say: Until the end.”

“Until the end.”

“Say: I won’t forget about you.”

“I won’t. I won’t forget about you.”

“Say you’re not pretending.” Emotion broke across Scorpius’ face.

Albus stared in complete lack of understanding. “I’m not pretending.”

“Again.”

“I’m not pretending.”

“Really?”

“Of course.” Albus swallowed roughly. _What is this?_

Scorpius’ eyes were wide and lost in whatever mental gymnastics he was trying to perform. He looked like he was fighting to speak. Like something was on the tip of his tongue.

“Hey-” Albus began.

“Tell me you love me,” Scorpius choked out.

Albus blanched. “What?”

“Say it. Please.” Scorpius maintained fervent eye contact. “I won’t remember this. Pretend for me.”

The words were stuck in his throat. Albus wanted to do whatever Scorpius asked, but… He couldn’t think. His mind had shut down, refusing to consider the possibility that Scorpius was really saying- “I love you,” Albus managed.

“Do you?” Scorpius asked. “Say yes.”

“Yes,” Albus fought through the short word.

Scorpius broke down in tears again, burying his face in the side of Albus’ neck. “I love you so much it’s painful,” he sobbed. “I’m sorry I told you. I won’t remember this.”

Albus stared blindly over Scorpius’ shoulder, not knowing what to say.

“Don’t hate me,” Scorpius clung tighter. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

Albus patted him on the back awkwardly. “It’s okay, mate. I don’t hate you. It’s… It’s fine.” Albus wasn’t sure if he was lying or not.

“I won’t remember this,” Scorpius said again. “Please forget. Please. Forget.”

Where Scorpius had found Albus’ wand, he wasn’t sure. All Albus knew was that Scorpius was pressing it into his hand, and guiding it to Albus’ temple.

“I won’t remember. Please forget,” Scorpius said one more time before going limp.

Albus dropped his wand and held Scorpius steady until he began to move again.

“Hey- Scorpius. Ah… Mate? You good?” He held Scorpius back to arm’s length, watching carefully as he regained consciousness.

Scorpius blinked in confusion. “Mm?” He looked around himself. “W’happened?”

Albus sighed, regaining composure. “Do you remember?”

Scorpius stared blankly. “Wha…?”

Albus nodded. “Okay. Good.”

Good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp.
> 
> Whatcha thinkin bout? Let me know.


	5. The So-Called Purity of Blood

_Albus-_

_Where have you taken my son? Where are you going? I expect you to answer promptly or face the full force of the ministry._

_-Draco Malfoy_

_Albus-_

_Where are you? What’s the meaning of this little journey the two of you have decided to take? Write immediately._

_-Draco Malfoy_

Paris was… well, it was Paris. It was postcards come to life. It was the smell, the texture, the atmosphere of France. It was monuments and beauty wrapped in apathy. It was strange to stand on the ground of such a famous place. The floor felt hollow, like it might fall away at any moment and reveal again the muggy slosh of England.

The first thing they did was check into the hostel. They’d reserved two beds in an eight person dorm over a cellular telephone, a piece of technology neither had used before. For a long moment, Scorpius had just stood there, looking petrified as the hostel worker repeatedly asked if anyone was there. He eventually handed it over to Albus, who turned the phone over in his hands, only having a vague idea of what he was supposed to do.

“...Hello?”

“‘Ello? Es… You are wanting to reserve ze room, no?” A bored sounding operator spoke with a heavy French accent.

Albus nodded nervously.

“‘Ello?”

“Oh! Yeah. Yes. Please. Sorry.” Turns out you can’t see nodding over the phone.

“For ‘ow many?” she drawled.

“Two,” Albus said clearly, hoping he was doing it right. He eventually got it down, and everything seemed in order when he hung up the phone and passed it back to the nice Muggle they had borrowed it from.

There were lockers in the hostel room. Albus and Scorpius looked them over briefly before securing their belongings inside with an extra layer of magical protection.

“Think it’s necessary?” Albus looked nervously at the locker.

“Yeah. Muggles steal,” Scorpius replied.

Albus cast him a questioning glance before shaking the comment off and sticking a wad of Muggle currency in his pocket. “Where to?” he asked, heading out the door with Scorpius just behind him.

“Nowhere famous. I have someone I need to see,” Scorpius answered cryptically.

He’d been doing a lot of that lately. Not quite answering questions. It was starting to worry Albus. He was beginning to think that maybe Scorpius had planned more than a road trip. “Where specifically?” Albus pressed.

“Grimoire Commune,” Scorpius replied, unhelpfully.

Albus sighed. “I’m more concerned with how to get there, and I really don’t know where that is.”

“Just follow,” Scorpius said with an equal amount of zero information. He passed ahead of Albus and started walking faster.

Albus was getting frustrated as he struggled to keep up. Scorpius was quite a bit taller than him. “Look, mate, I know you didn’t expect me to tag along with you, but since I’m here… this nebulous shite is getting old. What are we doing?”

Scorpius stopped suddenly, sending Albus crashing into his back. “I already told you.” He turned around, a foreign look in his eyes. “I’m doing everything.”

The chill of Scorpius’ expression was enough to shut Albus up. They walked in absolute silence through the streets of Paris until they reached the metro station. They boarded in absolute silence. They rode in absolute silence. They walked a mile down a dirt road in silence. The first time either of them spoke was at the door to an old, decrepit house covered in prayer flags and decorated with shining crystals.

Scorpius stood staring at the door for a long moment, face impassive. Albus wondered what he was doing until he noticed Scorpius’ eyes flicking back and forth. _Is he reading?_ Sure enough, there were runes faintly printed on the largest prayer flag that was nailed to the door. Lots of nails jutted out, apparently hammered in from both sides of the door, making the whole house look a little sketchy. A moment later, Scorpius made a noise of frustration and turned to Albus, speaking for the first time in over an hour.

“I’m not a parselmouth.”

Albus gaped. “What the hell, and _where_ are we?!”

Scorpius looked a little nauseated. “But I am… Ugh. This is gonna suck. Maybe don’t look for a minute.”

Albus couldn’t look away. Scorpius steeled himself, grimacing as he raised his left hand to the door before quickly slicing his wrist on one of the nails. A noise of pain escaped his throat and he squeezed his eyes shut as blood spattered on the rune-printed prayer flag. A moment later, all traces of the blood disappeared, and glowing silver words appeared.

_Scorpius Hyperion: Malfoy, Greengrass, Black, Pureblood._

Written just below in red were the words

_Only daughter._

“Only what now?” Albus stared.

“Bad translation,” Scorpius didn’t look up from nursing his injured wrist. “Your turn.”

“Nope.” Albus balked.

“Then you’re not coming in.” Scorpius shrugged, reaching for the knob.

“Wait!” Albus grabbed him by the elbow. _“You_ shouldn’t go in! This is clearly dark magic. And… this isn’t like you. You’re so… good. I don’t…” He didn’t know what to say.

_Say anything. Anything to change his mind._  
_How? He’s acting so strange._  
_What gets a rise out of him?_  
_I don’t know anymore!_

_Oh… Yes I do._  
_I remember._  
_Worth it?_  
_Yes._

Albus slid his hand from Scorpius’ elbow to hold his hand. He looked down, then back up, trying to look chastened. “Look at me.”

Scorpius’ eyes widened minutely, but his expression didn’t change. He was still staring at the door.

Albus reached out to take Scorpius’ other hand. “I said _look_ at me.”

Hesitantly, Scorpius looked Albus in the eyes. “What are you doing? We don’t… we don’t do that.”

Albus took a step closer, just beyond the bounds of personal space. “Doesn’t matter. We’re not at school anymore. We don’t have a reputation to maintain.”

A faint blush betrayed Scorpius’ forced stoic expression. “Wow, that’s… unexpected? I guess. For you to have that opinion. Never thought it was about reputation for you.”

 _Perfect. Drive it home. Trigger words. Gaunt._ “I don’t like this. I don’t like to see you like this, so gaunt. Scorpius, I…” He broke off like he was trying to get control of his emotions. “I know you’re scared of dying. Everyone is. But would you really turn to dark magic to stay alive? Is it worth it?” _Like Voldemort._ “Think of your father.” _Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort._

For a moment, Scorpius’ expression broke. He looked heartbroken. He looked terrified. Then, he looked pissed off. “Oh, screw you, Albus, you suck at that.” He pulled his hands away and turned back to the door. “That schoolyard shit might work on your Gryffindor family, but I see right through it.” He folded his arms angrily. “You gonna follow me or not? I’m not waiting any longer.”

Irrational anger boiled in Albus’ chest. He knew it was a dick move, but he was still pissed with Scorpius for seeing through it. He used to be so easy to manipulate like that. “Fine, whatever.” He held up his right arm.

Scorpius shook his head, grabbing Albus’ left arm and replacing it. “It’s a thing. The left. It wasn’t arbitrary.”

Briefly considering the Death Eater implications of that sentiment before shaking it off, Albus dropped his right arm and braced himself for the pain. It hurt. A lot. More than it was supposed to.

Silver words glowed.

_Albus Severus: Weasley, Prewett, Black._

Below in red,

_Half-blood. Second son._

Albus frowned, trying to work that out. “Wait, it’s listing-”

“Qualifications. Don’t think about it.” Scorpius walked through the door like it was made of smoke.

Albus stood in shock for a long moment. “But…” _Later. I’ll think about it later._ He followed Scorpius through the door.

Inside was nothing like the outside. Lavish tapestries, vases, and marble statues decked the halls. The room echoed every footstep back to them, and announced the arrival of another set of footsteps a moment later.

A dark haired woman in a floor-length green dress and heels clicked over to them. She spoke with an American accent. “You took your time.” She glanced between them briefly. “Boys.” She raised an amused eyebrow, and gestured them forward. “I almost didn’t let the Dirtyblood in.” She nodded at Albus. “A half-blood Weasley named for Albus Dumbledore and the traitor Severus Snape? Tut tut. Very incriminating.” She smiled sweetly at Scorpius. “But I could never deny you.” She strode forward, leading Albus and Scorpius down the hallway. It seemed to extend forever, marble floors reflecting sallow yellow-green light that made Albus feel lethargic. The woman chatted the entire way.

“Scorpius Malfoy…” She purred. “What a rare find. I respect what your father did. I wish mine had had the same...” She stopped suddenly and looked Scorpius up and down, lingering somewhere around his abdomen. “Well, no pun intended. I presume your mixed friend is in the dark about…?”

“Yes.” Scorpius nodded, avoiding Albus’ gaze. “It was my grandfather’s decision. Before I was born.”

She smiled coyly. “Lucius Malfoy, huh?” She bit her lip, then tossed her hair as she turned around to continue walking down the hall. “What a man.” She laughed musically. “I suppose that makes two of you. Was your father also...?”

“No,” Scorpius answered quickly.

“Lucky, then.”

“Yes.”

Albus realized his expression was betraying a lot of confusion. He felt like he was missing some vital piece of information without which this conversation made no sense. Before he could ask, however, they were standing at the end of the hall. The woman opened a heavy wooden door, and gestured them in.

It was a library. Albus almost laughed. Of course it was a library. Of course Scorpius would travel out of the entire United Kingdom just to go to a library. Albus was grinning broadly, unable to help it. Maybe Scorpius was still himself after all.

The woman (librarian?) smiled at Scorpius. “So, what are you looking for?”

Scorpius scanned the immense collection, a spark of joy in his eyes for the first time in awhile. He seemed lost in his own world. Albus nudged him. “Huh? Oh! Sorry, yeah. Greengrass. Anything on the Greengrass family history.”

The woman raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Seemingly from out of nowhere, she produced a long, slender wand and flicked it casually in the air. Instantly, a flock of books flung themselves off the shelves and organized themselves in an orderly pile on a table.

She strode over to Scorpius, placing a hand on his upper arm. “Just call if you need anything, Scorpius Malfoy.” She cast him a seductive glance.

“Yeah, thanks,” Scorpius said, oblivious.

A twinge of frustration flickered across her face, but she pulled herself together and nodded to Albus, still holding on to Scorpius. “Be careful with the books, Weasley.”

Albus scowled, and opened his mouth to correct her but stopped upon seeing Scorpius shake his head furtively. Albus scowled harder. “Whatever you say.”

With one more needy look to Scorpius, the woman released his arm and strode out of the room.

As soon as she was gone, Albus laughed. “Jesus, she was all over you.”

Scorpius frowned at him. “Don’t talk like a Muggle. Help me with these.” He walked over to the table with the books and took a seat.

Albus’ mirth faded instantly. “What the hell is wrong with you lately?” He walked over to stand next to Scorpius. “You keep saying all this supremacist bullshit. You’ve never done that before. What are you trying to do?”

Scorpius cast him a cold glance before turning to the pile of books, selecting one, and burying his nose in it. “Help if you want, Albus. Otherwise leave me alone.”

Cold rage ran through Albus’ veins. “You’re turning into your father.”

Scorpius visibly tensed. They sat in silence for a painfully long time before Scorpius slowly stood, turning to face Albus with a look of sheer contempt on his face. “Fine, then,” he sneered. “So I am.”

Albus could have sworn an icy hand was closing over his throat.

Scorpius took a step towards him. “Maybe that’s best. Maybe that’s the key.”

“What are you on about?” Albus asked nervously, taking a step back.

Scorpius closed the gap. “Maybe that’s what you want, too. What do you think, Albus? Wanna play Harry Potter?” He drew his wand.

Albus fumbled in his pocket and drew his wand as well, pointing it warningly at Scorpius’ chest.

Scorpius smirked, glancing down at the shaking piece of wood before stepping forward until it was pressed squarely over his heart. “Dare you.”

Albus could hear his heart pounding in his ears. His guts felt strangely absent. This was more than he could comprehend. This was wrong. This was very very wrong. “Scorpius-”

“Sectumsempra,” Scorpius supplied. “If you’re wondering what to do. Spill my blood. It’s so fucking pure.”

Albus shook his head. “I don’t want to.”

“Don’t you?” Scorpius’ eyes were wide with mania. “Wouldn’t you hurt me? What if I was a Death Eater? Would you kill me?”

“You’re not!” Albus backed away hastily. “Look, I know something’s wrong with your brain, but you need to try to pull it together before-”

“No! It’s not that!” Scorpius’ eyes filled with tears. “This is the answer, Albus! I’m a blood traitor, and now my blood is betraying me!” He walked forward, edging Albus back until he was against the wall. “It’s not some stupid Muggle malady, don’t you think we would have saved my mum?” He was breathing heavily, close to hyperventilating. “This is the choice I have to make. Pureblood or die! What would you prefer? Because I honestly don’t know.”

Albus paled. He felt weak. If the wall wasn’t behind him, holding him up, he probably would have fallen.

Scorpius lowered his wand, expression shattering. He looked like himself. Terrified, but himself. “I… I know how I’ve been lately. I really didn’t expect for you to have to see this.” He took a shuddering sigh. “I’m not in the best position to have good judgement, and I don’t want to blindly follow my mum and rebel against the curse until I die.” He blinked hard. “I trust you. I really do. More than I trust myself. So… I defer to you. What do you think? Death Eater or death?”

Albus was silent for a long moment, considering. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing. He really didn’t want to say the wrong thing.

“I think…” he began, his voice fragile and soft. He decided. “Nothing is completely unforgivable. No one is completely unforgiving. Except for death. That’s something you can never come back from.”

Scorpius whimpered, looking small. “You’re saying-”

“For Voldemort and Valor.” He put his hand over his heart.

Scorpius stared at him, jaw slack.

Albus pressed his wrists together, and Scorpius collapsed on the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woowee, there's a lot to unpack here. Let's review:
> 
> Only daughter  
> Albus is a manipulative asshole  
> Lucius Malfoy did something shady (ahem... something _else_ shady...)  
>  Death Eater or Death  
> For Voldemort and Valor
> 
> Some of this I'll make explicit later, some of this already technically has enough information to figure out. I'll let you decide what's what.


	6. You Care So Much

_Albus-_

_Tell me if he’s safe. Please._

_-Draco Malfoy_

Albus rushed to Scorpius’ side, picking up his head from the cold floor and cradling it in his lap. He felt no fear this time, and simply waited until Scorpius stirred.

Scorpius stood gingerly. He was beginning to collect a series of bruises on his arms and legs. Albus helped him up, holding onto his hands for probably longer than was strictly necessary. When he tried to let go, Scorpius held on tight. Albus complied, too emotionally drained to protest.

Scorpius was staring intensely at the floor. His jaw was twitching like he was trying to say something, but couldn’t figure out what. After a long moment, he looked up to meet Albus’ eyes and leaned in to kiss him gently on the cheek.

When he pulled back, they both stared at each other in absolute shock.

Eventually, Albus realized it was his job to let Scorpius know if it was okay or not, what had just happened. He smiled weakly and squeezed Scorpius’ hands, hoping that was enough.

“Wanna look at these books?” Scorpius asked, finally letting go of Albus’ hands.

Albus nodded mutely and the two took their seats at the table.

In all honestly, Albus was barely paying attention to the words on the page. He skimmed for keywords like “Greengrass,” “Blood curse,” or “Blood traitor,” but other than that he let his mind wander.

He hadn’t obliviated himself. He remembered exactly what Scorpius had said the night before during his episode. He had played it over in his mind a million times until it meant nothing. He thought about it and argued himself in and out of sanity until he managed to convince himself that it was just a symptom of whatever curse Scorpius had tearing through his brain. _He has brain damage,_ Albus assured himself. _He wasn’t lucid._ Of course not. Of course not. But that didn’t necessarily mean he hadn’t told the truth.

How strange that would be, to treat Scorpius like… like a girlfriend or something. It would be strange, right? It would. Albus had never really had girlfriends. He’d gone on one or two dates with different girls over the years, all of which had generally ended in boredom, awkwardness, or disaster.

_Maybe I’m thinking too far. Maybe that’s not what he meant._

It’s not like Albus had ever had other friends. Looking at other people with their best friends… yeah, it seemed a bit close for guys but girls did stuff like that all the time. Girls were affectionate with each other. Maybe their relationship just looked more like that. More… effeminate. Ugh. He cringed. What a horrible word.

_I need physical contact. Now._

Albus startled himself with that thought, and pushed it aside. He tried to remember what his mother said. Open heart, open mind.

_What are the moral ramifications?_

None.

_What are the personal ramifications?_

Negligible.

_What are the social ramifications?_

Incalculable.

Shit.

Still, it’s not like he hadn’t faced social ramifications before. Being sorted into Slytherin was pretty awful. He tried to look at it from the perspective of someone else.

Albus only had one friend. He only really cared about one other person. When forcibly separated from Scorpius, he tended to go a bit off the rails. Codependence. That’s what everyone called it. Codependent to an unhealthy degree. Then, of course, they’d run away together the second they graduated school. That certainly didn’t have the approval of either of their fathers. They were essentially backpacking across Europe together. They were travelling to Asia together. Albus was prepared to eskew all his morals and beliefs in order to save Scorpius’ life.

Oh, okay. Yeah, maybe that was the thing that pushed them over the edge. If Harry Potter’s son would embrace Death Eater philosophy in order to keep Draco Malfoy’s son healthy, then it was already too obvious to deny to anyone. So, why bother?

_Stick your hand down your pants._

Albus flushed, and a weak noise of fear sounded in his throat. That was way further than he’d intended to go.

_Think about it._

Albus’ eyes blurred and he realized he’d read the same passage several times.

_Think about it. How easy would that be? With him._

Easy. Definitely easy. But was it worth it? Was it worth it to lose what little respect his father had for him?

_Yeah. Fuck my dad._

He suddenly felt much more relaxed. He smiled. “Hey, Scorpius?”

“Mhm?” Scorpius hummed, still immersed in his book.

“Everything’s gonna be okay.”

*******

_Mum-_

_I’m doing well. We’re in France. Don’t tell Mr. Malfoy.  
I know everyone’s probably upset with me for running away so unexpectedly. I know everyone’s worried, wondering where we are. Mr. Malfoy has made that abundantly clear with his threats of search parties._

_I’m sorry. I’m happy._

_I think travel does funny things to a person’s head. At times it’s like nothing else matters, because we’re so far from home, so it’s just me and him against the world. I like it._

_Mum, I think I love him._

_I’m sorry. Don’t tell dad._

_-Albus_

The hostel dorm was bunk beds, a bit smaller than twin sized, like the train. Taking a lesson from their roommates, Albus and Scorpius hung the flat sheets over the railing below the top bunk, fencing off a private area. Albus donated his as well, since Scorpius had the lower bunk, and they both sat together in the bed, Scorpius reading, Albus drawing in a notebook.

Albus was privately arguing himself out of fear.

_What’s the worst that could happen? He’s the one that took the first risk._

He fidgeted with his pencil, deciding what to do.

_Okay. Okay. Okay._

Refusing to think about it anymore, he edged closer to Scorpius so that their hips were touching as they sat side by side.

Scorpius either pretended not to notice, or was engrossed in his book to the point of oblivion. Albus tried not to wonder which it was.

_“Le cinéma!”_ someone called.

Albus and Scorpius looked up.

_“Il commence!”_

Albus glanced at Scorpius. “Want to? Probably all in French.”

Scorpius looked interested. “I’ve never seen a film before.”

Albus grinned. “That settles it, then. We’re going.” He grabbed Scorpius’ hand and pulled him along through the sheet curtain and out into the courtyard. People were sitting around on blankets and pillows, staring at a blank, white wall.

There was an empty blanket near the back, so Albus pulled Scorpius along to claim it.

Scorpius gasped as a glowing white square appeared on the wall. “Oh, wow!”

Albus shushed him. “That’s not the thing. Hold on.”

Words in curly cursive letters appeared on the screen: _Les Malchanceux_

“The Unfortunates,” Scorpius translated.

“You speak French?” Albus asked, surprised. Seemed like a thing he would have known before.

“No.” Scorpius looked at him funny. “I speak Latin. Don’t you?”

“No!”

“Really? ‘Cause… you know, all spells come from Latin. They’re easier to cast and to remember if you know what you’re saying.” He looked back at the screen. “Maybe it’s a Pureblood thing.”

Albus narrowed his eyes, trying not to be annoyed by that.

A picture appeared on the screen. It was just a simple shot of a classic French kitchen, but Scorpius was stunned. “Wow!” he whisper-shouted. “How is it doing that?”

Albus smiled at his childlike wonder. “There’s a thing called a projector. It’s back there.” He pointed at the little black machine that emitted a fierce succession of flickering lights.

“It’s shining light?” Scorpius asked. “How?”

Albus frowned. “I don’t really know. Electricity, I guess.”

“What’s that?” Scorpius was gaping at the projector.

“Er, well… I think it’s like… lightning?” He actually wasn’t sure. He didn’t know that much about Muggle technology. What he knew his dad, aunt, and grandpa had taught him.

Scorpius turned back to the screen. “That’s lightning?” His voice was soft and full of awe. “Transfiguration…”

“Yep.” Albus didn’t know what else to say. Slowly, he became aware that he and Scorpius were holding hands. _When did we do that? That’s new._

Scorpius seemed immersed in the film. Albus, on the other hand, was staring at his and Scorpius’ entwined fingers, wondering what to think or do. Absentmindedly, he rubbed his thumb along the back of Scorpius’ hand. It was painfully thin. The ligaments of his fingers stood out sharply through his paper-white skin, and every so often, a tremor would run through his hand.

_I want to bite him._

Albus looked up at the screen quickly, hastily shoving that thought away.

As if intentionally trying to torment Albus, Scorpius scooted closer.

_Alright, look,_ Albus faced himself. _You can do one of two things here. One, you can treat this like a serious thing and actually put thought into it, or two, you can blindly stumble forwards and hope for the best._

Option two, easy choice.

_Just go with it, then. Don’t treat it like a big deal. Don’t assign meaning to things that don’t need meaning. Don’t think too hard._

Confidence built, Albus let go of Scorpius’ hand and slid it around his back, pulling him closer.

Thankfully, Scorpius reacted positively, resting his head on Albus’ shoulder.

Albus’ stomach flipped.

_Is this weird?_   
_Doesn’t have to be._   
_Okay._   
_Merlin, James can never know._

Albus had no idea what the movie was about, and that was due to more than just the lack of subtitles. Or maybe there _were_ subtitles. He wasn’t paying attention.

He could feel Scorpius breathing, and it was bizarre to be close enough to someone to feel their lifesigns. The movie was over much sooner than Albus would have liked. It was wonderfully peaceful sitting out in the grassy courtyard, the smell of night and friendship lulling him into security. They sat through the credits as the rest of the tenants made their way back to their beds. Only when they were the last ones outside did they finally stand up.

“It really is a nice night.” Scorpius smiled. “I’m really glad you’re with me.”

Albus nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

Scorpius fidgeted, and reached out for Albus’ hand again. “It feels like home, you know? As long as you’re here.”

Albus felt the flush creeping up his cheeks.

“‘And,” Scorpius continued. “I’m really glad you were sorted into Slytherin. In the end. In this reality. I’m really glad it turned out this way and not some other way.”

“Me too,” was all Albus managed to say.

Scorpius grimaced. “Aura.”

“Huh?”

Scorpius’ hand tightened in Albus’. “Let’s go inside. Hurry.” He pulled Albus along with him, through the door to their dorm, and behind the sheet curtains on the bed.

Albus watched carefully as Scorpius’ eyes went out of focus. He tried to memorize each tremor in his body and each change in his expression. He wanted to know everything about what was happening. Maybe, with enough data collected, he could do something to help.

Scorpius was breathing heavily. He looked like he was in pain. Gingerly, he laid his head on Albus’ shoulder. Albus stroked his hair, trying to calm him down.

“I’m trying not to…” Scorpius wheezed. “Not to fall.”

“It’s okay,” Albus assured. “I’ll be here. You can let go.”

Scorpius took a shuddering breath and nodded. It only lasted a moment. As he lost control, Albus helped him lay down on his back.

Scorpius grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him down, curling up around him as he fought against the demon in his head.

All of the sudden, it was over. Scorpius opened his eyes and gingerly sat up. Albus held his shoulders cautiously.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.

“Yeah.” Scorpius nodded. “Tomorrow, we’re going to Germany.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think y'all deserve some fluff for a minute.


	7. After All This Time

_      Albus- _

 

_ I love you so much, both your father and I do. All we want is for you to be happy, healthy, and safe. _

 

_      -Mum _

 

_      Albus- _

 

_ Stay with him. Don’t let him out of your sight. _

 

_      -Draco Malfoy _

 

Germany was a bus ride. Much different from the train with the sleeper carriages. They arrived early in order to get seats together, and Scorpius began setting up their area.

 

“What are you doing?” Albus watched him unpack a blanket and pillows from a bag that seemed way too deep.

 

“Improvising,” Scorpius non-explained. “It’s gonna be a long trip.” He furtively pulled his wand out of his pocket, looking around to make sure no one was watching.  _ “Repello Muggletum.”  _ He relaxed into his seat. “Now nobody will pay attention to us.”

 

The Muggles boarded the bus one by one, all looking strangely away from where Scorpius and Albus sat.

 

The bus rocked a bit, then accelerated. People chattered softly, most with their laptops open at an awkward angle on their knees.

 

They curled up under the blankets, feet propped up on their rucksacks. Scorpius laid his head down on Albus’ chest, sighing. He spoke in a monotone, “Wish we could apparate. Muggle technology will never compare. Can’t believe they have to live this way.”

 

Albus looked down at him sadly. “Poor things don’t know the difference. They’re to be pitied, really.”

 

Scorpius’ jaw clenched. He looked disgusted with himself. “Thank Merlin we’re Slytherins, Albus,” he muttered bitterly. “We do what we have to do.”

 

“It’s worth the price.”

 

Scorpius sat up, shaking his head as he stared down into his lap. “Eleven hours, we’ll be in Dusseldorf.”

 

“Yep.”

 

“Masters of magical creatures. They make magic a science.” Something glowed in Scorpius’ eyes.

 

“Why do you care about animals?” Albus asked, then realized how unsympathetic that sounded. “I mean, why are we going to see animals?”

 

“There’s more to magic that what we wizards can do,” Scorpius spoke softly, pure reverence in his voice. “There’s a whole other world beyond what we know, and that’s what Germanic Wizardry is all about.” He beamed at Albus. “At the very least, it’ll be fun.”

 

Albus smiled back, his heart fluttering. It was good to see Scorpius happy. “That’s reason enough.”

 

Slowly, the smile slid off of Scorpius’ face. “I know you’ve been writing my dad.”

 

Albus sighed. “Ah, yeah. Well, really it’s more like he’s been writing me. He’s worried about you, you know.”

 

“I know.” Scorpius slouched down in his seat. “He’s been writing me too.” He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a thick wad of parchment.

 

Albus took it, glancing down. Mr. Malfoy’s letters to Scorpius were much longer that the few brief words he sent Albus. He read the most recently dated letter, which was on top.

 

_      Scorpius- _

 

_      I’ve been speaking with members of the Wizarding Order for Records of Magic. I think your theory about motive versus motion may be correct. You have to be willing to accept the traditional way of life, regardless of your opinion of it. _

 

_      Quite honestly, I think your search for a ‘cure’ is foolhardy. This is dark magic. Should a cure even exist, the cost would be insurmountable. _

 

_      I know it’s not what you want to hear, and it pains me to say it, but the course of action I recommend for you is to follow tradition. Have a child. Don’t what your mother and I did to you. Let her be female. Hopefully she will be able to produce a son, and the curse will end.  _

 

_      Come home, let me at least care for you until you’re better. Albus is welcome always. I don’t want to have to force you. _

 

_      -Dad _

 

Albus frowned, a particular line catching his eye. “What did they do to you?”

 

“Hm?” Scorpius’ eyebrows drew together, and he skimmed the page. “Oh, that. Don’t worry about that.”

 

“Why not?” Albus pressed. “What happened?”

 

“Nothing, really. Nothing that matters anymore.” He took the letters back and quickly stowed them away.

 

“But your dad brought it up. It could be relevant if he’s thinking about it.” It was strange how Scorpius was concealing information. Last time that happened… well, they were on a bus to Germany.

 

Scorpius looked uncomfortable. “Er, well… It’s really a Pureblood tradition more than anything. It’s important to have a son, so very occasionally they’ll make sure.” He shrugged like that made perfect sense.

 

“How?” Albus held up his hands in annoyance. Like pulling teeth.

 

Scorpius slid down in his seat, pulling the covers up to his chin and staring pointedly away from Albus. “There’s a ritual performed, it just makes sure you have a son rather than a daughter. It’s a bit sexist, but it’s tradition. If you want an heir, you need a male.” Scorpius was chewing nervously on his bottom lip. “A girl won’t carry the family name forever, plus what, are you supposed to give control of the family wealth over to a daughter?”

 

“...Yes?” Albus narrowed his eyes, utterly confused. “Wouldn’t you?”

 

“Of course not!” Scorpius groaned in frustration. “If the daughter controls the wealth, then when she gets married, everything belongs to the husband’s family. Your family loses power, your name loses its weight, and all property under the woman’s father’s name goes to the husband’s father’s family. It would be giving up everything. Giving up your entire kingdom. What would be the point of marriage?”

 

“...Love?” Albus was stunned by Scorpius’ little speech. It didn’t seem like him at all.

 

“Marriage isn’t about love. At least, it never used to be. It used to be a monetary transaction. Women are property. That’s the point.” Scorpius tried and failed to look contemptuous. He just looked a little sad. “So that’s why my parents had a son.”

 

Something suddenly clicked. “You were supposed to be a girl?”

 

Scorpius nodded. “The blood curse is passed from mother to daughter. It started when some great to the nth degree grandmother of mine tried to break tradition. She ran away and lived for a long time with Muggles. To get her back, her father cursed her with an ultimatum. Live in the family tradition, or die. The more she rebelled, the sicker she got. The problem was, and her father didn’t know, she was pregnant at the time he cursed her. The ultimatum was passed on to her daughter, who passed it to her daughter, and eventually to my mother and me.”

 

Albus didn’t quite know what to do with all that new information. He just stared. “So… you’re a girl?”

 

Scorpius looked at him like he was an idiot. “No. And that’s entirely not the point.”

 

Albus nodded slowly. “See, it really seems like the point, though.”

 

“No, the  _ point  _ is,” Scorpius sighed. “If I don’t produce an heir, I’m breaking tradition. If I  _ do  _ produce an heir, they’ll inherit the curse because I can only produce daughters. If I have a child, they’ll be cursed. If I don’t, I’ll be killed.”

 

Albus tried to understand. “Why can you only have daughters?”

 

“Biology,” Scorpius explained simply. “Wrong chromosomes. Same reason the Grimoire Commune entryway said I was the “Only daughter.” It’s still written in my blood.”

 

The full force of the situation dawned on Albus. “Oh. Oh, I see. Damn.”

 

“Yeah. That’s why I’m trying to find a cure. I don’t want to pass this off to another generation, and I certainly don’t want to die.”

 

Albus felt small. This series of choices- Death Eater or death, cursing a child or death, tradition or death… It was awful. With a twinge of something like contempt, he realized how simple a choice it would be for his family. Death before dishonor. The Gryffindor way.

 

Sometimes Albus wondered if it wasn’t latent personality differences that made the culture of each house so unique, but what they were taught to believe while they were there. The seven most formative years of his life had been an education in what his family called “Acquired Slytherin Sociopathy,” or ASS. They had been taught how to be manipulative, how to act in your own best interest, how to use those that advantage you and how to maintain a cool distance from anyone who might disadvantage you.

 

It wasn’t so bad if you thought about it. In the most simplistic terms it seemed awful, but when you consider the reality of the world, and the world isn’t such a black and white place, it made a lot of sense. Above all, Slytherins are nihilists. They understand that the only thing that could be deemed important is one’s own happiness. There’s no overarching morals to life, and no punishment in store for those who might break those morals. Slytherins are happy. They’re cold, calculating, and often abrasive to those they deem inconsequential or detrimental to them, but they’re happy in themselves. If Albus ever cared to defend his house, that’s what he’d say.

 

Maybe students are taught to behave in their house’s image. Maybe if they weren’t segregated, things would be different.

 

As it was, Albus was glad they’d been Slytherins. If that education was enough to keep Scorpius from killing himself, it was worth all the abuse he’d taken from his family.

 

On the other hand one of the most obvious traits of Slytherin house, and something they joked about with each other frequently, was their tendency to get bored. Like all “sociopaths,” if nothing was at conflict, they caused the conflict. Just to keep things interesting. Just to keep away the crushing boredom that they all seemed so susceptible to.

 

An eleven hour bus ride to Germany was definitely boring. With nothing much to talk about, Albus was getting too deep into his own head, arguing with himself and inevitably inducing anxiety when he realized he was a perfect intellectual match for himself. Every stupid, pointless argument he had became an infinite loop that eventually wound up in a stalemate with two different and equally unprovable philosophical stances. Albus was particularly adept at this kind of argument. He’d once debated himself into philosophy when trying to choose the color of his curtains.

 

_ Self-preservation is more important than anything. I should encourage him to have a child. _

_ But what would be the point of life if he’s unhappy? _

_ Who says he’d be unhappy? _

_ Sitting around in Malfoy Manor with some Pureblood girl he doesn’t love, raising a child to hate Muggles and Muggle-borns. _

_ He could love her. _

_ Yeah, right. He loves me. _

_ So fuck off and leave him alone. _

_ But I don’t want to. _

_ So now you’re the one who’s being selfish. _

_ Maybe I am. What’s the point of my life if I’m unhappy? _

_ So you don’t care about him at all? _

_ I do. _

_ Then leave him. _

_ But I don’t want to. _

_ Then you’re selfish. _

_ Whose happiness is more important here? _

_ His. _

_ Mine. _

_ Why? _

_ No reason. _

_ There has to be a reason, that’s a fallacy. _

_ Nothing has a reason! _

_ Isn’t happiness a reason? _

_ It’s not important! _

_ Nothing’s important, then! _

_ I know! _

_ So the decision has nothing to do with a reason. _

_ Nothing has anything to do with any reason. _

_ Function in the real world, idiot. Things have consequences. _

_ Cause an effect doesn’t have anything to do with a point. _

_ So, there’s no point. Decide what you want, then. _

_ I want him. _

_ I want his happiness. _

_ You can’t have both. Be logical. Be calculating. _

_ I am. We have to decide which is better, him or me. _

_ Logically, him. _

_ Emotionally, me. _

_ What’s better? _

_ Feelings over logic. _

_ Logic over feelings. _

_ It’s a matter of opinion, now. _

_ Friedrich Nietzsche says- _

_ But Dumbledore says- _

_ Who’s better? _

_ Doesn’t matter. _

_...Stalemate. _

_ Call it. _

_ This argument is dead. _

_ On the other hand- _

 

“Hey- stop it.” Scorpius was staring at Albus with an amused look on his face. “You look angry.”

 

“Hm?” Albus was pulled out of his reverie. “Oh, just thinking.”

 

“I can tell. Stop it. Distract yourself.” Scorpius had seen Albus spiral into one too many panic attacks over this kind of thinking.

 

“I’m bored,” Albus complained. “I can’t help it.”

 

“Talk to me, then,” Scorpius suggested.

 

“About what?” Albus sighed. “You know, maybe we spend too much time together. I know way too much about you. Also, we haven’t spent a minute apart for the past month, let alone the last seven years we’ve been roommates.”

 

Scorpius went silent for a disturbingly long moment. Albus watched his eyes carefully to make sure he didn’t shutter. After a while, he reached down into his bag and dug around for a bit before pulling out a beaten up book with the front cover missing. “Have you read this?”

 

“Merlin, I can’t even tell what it is.” Albus took the book from his hands. “This book has been to hell and back, several times it seems.”

 

“It’s an old favorite. I’m not reading it anymore.” Scorpius looked at it sadly. “Very much against tradition.”

 

“What’s it about?” Albus turned a few pages and wrinkled his nose. It was full of spelling errors, grammatical mistakes, and it seemed to be written entirely in run-on sentences. “It looks like it’s about how not to write a book.”

 

Scorpius was looking at it with reverence. “It’s an old American Muggle book about some guys that ran away from everything to go on a meandering road-trip across the United States. I brought it along because it seemed relevant. The original scroll. Spelling errors and margin notes included.”

 

Albus turned it over and read the faded and torn back cover. There wasn’t really much information aside from a couple glowing reviews from people Albus had never heard of.

 

“It’s first person, but the writer, named Jack, isn’t really the protagonist. That would be this guy named Neal who kinda reminds me of you sometimes. Glib charm he uses to get his way, insane charisma, kinda unpredictable. But underneath it all, he’s a really caring guy who loves his friends.” When Albus looked at him, a light blush was creeping up Scorpius’ cheeks. “And there’s this other character named Allen who’s this nerdy guy with a well-known dad and a sick mom. And he’s fairly obsessed with Neal.”

 

Albus struggled to keep a neutral expression. He was dying to laugh at the awkwardness of the moment.

 

“So,” Scorpius continued. “The two of them impulsively jump on a train together and end up having this wild fling, and nobody knows where they are, but they don’t really care. It’s a great story.”

 

Albus nodded, still fighting hard not to laugh. “So, you want me to read this?”

 

Scorpius shrugged. “You can if you want. I just thought telling you about it would distract you enough so you’re not bored.”

 

He wasn’t wrong. Albus stared down at the beaten up book and his mind completely blurred. No rational thoughts made it through the cloud of confusion, embarrassment, and anticipation that Scorpius had inspired.

 

Realizing he needed to do something, Albus smiled and set the book in his lap. “I’ll read it.”

 

Scorpius smiled back, a sort of knowing humour in his eyes. “Good.”

 

Albus melted. He really was cute when he wanted to be, and he could play Albus like a fiddle. Sighing in defeat, Albus flipped up the armrest between them and wrapped his arm around Scorpius’ shoulders, pulling him in. “Okay. I get it. Okay. That was pretty obvious.”

 

“Well, you can be incredibly thick at times,” Scorpius defended himself.

 

Albus laughed, and lightly kissed the top of Scorpius’ head. “You’re better at honesty than me.”

 

Scorpius sighed. “I just figured I needed to say something if I’m going to end up in a traditional life. Now or never, right?”

 

Albus’ mood shifted. “Yeah. I guess so.”

 

They sat still and silent for a long time. Eventually, Scorpius sat up, staring blankly ahead. He turned to Albus, a slightly sad look in his eyes. “Sorry about this.” He reached out to wrap a hand around the back of Albus’ head, tangling his fingers through the messy black hair. He smiled lightly and leaned forward, kissing Albus gently on the lips.

 

It wasn’t electricity. It wasn’t fireworks or a rush of hormones. It was a simple togetherness that felt safe, comfortable, and inevitable.

 

Albus didn’t realize he’d stopped breathing until he pulled away with a light gasp. He couldn’t help it; a genuine smile spread slowly across his face until he and Scorpius were beaming, staring fixedly into each other’s eyes.

 

With a sudden rush of anxiety and desperation, Albus pulled Scorpius to him again, bringing a sort of urgency to the kiss.

 

In that moment, it became Albus’ single-minded objective to fit an entire life together into whatever time they had. If that meant that every second was consumed with him, if it meant he never slept and stayed up all night with him, it was worth it. Because there would come a time in their lives- and that moment was on the horizon- that they would have to part ways. Whether that meant giving Scorpius up to Pureblood society or watching him die rebelling, they were star-crossed. Better to think about the moment and lose yourself in obsession because Albus doubted he’d ever find someone as wonderfully matched to him as Scorpius was and obsessive love can only be indulged in wholeheartedly.

 

No thought. No restraint. No regrets.

  
Germany was going to be amazing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The book is On The Road by Jack Kerouac if you hadn't already figured that out. I think I've referenced it in several of my fics so far- that's where my username comes from, by the way. Neal Cassidy. I changed the spelling.
> 
> I figured chapter 7 would be an appropriate time to make things official. Seems like something JKR would do. Except with Scorpius and _Rose_ apparently.
> 
> Whatever. I'm not bitter at all.


	8. What We Truly Are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This... well, this is me warning you.

They arrived just as the sun was rising over Dusseldorf. People were shuffling around, looking as if they’d either woken up too early or stayed out too late. Albus and Scorpius wound up calling a cab to their lodging, preferring not to walk through such unfamiliar territory.

 

“Wo soll ich hin?” The driver looked back at them.

 

They stared blankly. “Er, well…” Scorpius spoke up.

 

“Where to?” The driver repeated.

 

“Oh. Great. Er, do you know Fuerstenwall? There’s a youth hostel there.” Scorpius vaguely gestured with his hands, helping nothing.

 

The driver just nodded. “Okay, British boys. I know where.” He took off suddenly, startling them both.

 

They sat in complete silence the whole time, too overwhelmed by the culture shock to say anything. When they finally arrived, paid the driver, and faced the hostel, they were already exhausted.

 

Since Scorpius had dealt with the cabbie, Albus dealt with the maitre d'hotel.

 

“Do you speak English?” he asked rather bluntly.

 

“Yes. As do about 70% of Germans,” the maitre d’ answered boredly.

 

“Oh. Cool. Okay. I guess we’re here under-” He looked at Scorpius, realizing he didn’t know their reservation.

 

“Malfoy.”

 

“Malfoy,” Albus repeated. “Two of us.”

 

The maitre d’ scanned a list, and nodded. “Yeah, second floor on the right. Room 206 B.”

 

“Thanks,” they both responded.

 

“You are not permitted to visit the female dorms,” The maitre d’ warned.

 

Albus and Scorpius both nodded blankly. “No problem.”

 

The stairs spiraled up through a common room that was decorated quite like a nursery. When they reached their room, the decorations were equally garish. The walls were painted with brightly colored murals, and everything else was blue.

 

On the bright side, nobody else was there. Like in Paris, they made their beds with a privacy sheet, and hid behind it to plan out their day.

 

“Okay, so there’s this place called Institut für Kryptozoologie,” Scorpius explained, pulling out a map. “It’s underground not far from here. It’s supposed to be heavily guarded, so I’m not entirely sure what’s going to happen when we get there.”

 

Albus rolled his eyes. “Alright.”

 

“I figure we can get breakfast real quick then head over. I think you’ll find this more interesting than the library.” Scorpius grinned.

 

“I’m sure I’d find anything more interesting than a library.” Albus raised an eyebrow, and glanced down at the map.

 

Breakfast was lovely. They sat at a table on the patio of a cafe, drinking coffee and eating a healthy serving of very normal English food. German food was not so different to what they were used to. They decided to walk to the Cryptozoological Lab, which was only about a mile away, though German Muggles used kilometres which they struggled to convert.

 

Like the library, the lab was concealed with enchantments. It appeared to be an old mine shaft with wooden planks nailed across the entrance. The moment they stood in front of it, the wooden barrier disappeared and encroaching, uneven footsteps echoed through the damp stone walls.

 

A woman with horribly tangled, white hair appeared out of the darkness. She wore a grey dress that fell to her ankles, exposing one normal, and one very large foot. She had a sharp nose and chin, and strangely prominent cheekbones. Her ears were that of a bat, and her eyes glowed red.

 

Scorpius dropped to his knees, and Albus mimicked him.

 

“Frau Perchta, we seek your help.” Scorpius lowered his head to the floor. Again, Albus followed suit.

 

Her voice echoed in two tones, one high and shrill, the other low and gravelly. “Why should I help you, Wizard boy?”

 

Head still pressed to the cracked cement floor, Scorpius pleaded. “I’m nearing the end of my life. I’m prepared to do anything to break the curse on my blood.”

 

Albus’ chest tightened painfully at his words.

 

“Stand,” Perchta commanded. They did. “Follow me.” She turned and retreated into the mine. The two followed in silence, stepping lightly down the echoing corridor until it opened to an expansive garden. Creatures ran everywhere, chasing each other, playing together, and hunting each other. They walked through the chaos, which stopped suddenly at the base of a large, grassy hill. “Climb,” she ordered before disappearing.

 

Shrugging, Scorpius started climbing. He made it about two steps before sliding suddenly back down. “What?” He looked at the grass in confusion. Hesitantly, he tried again, making it three steps before sliding back down violently and landing on his back.

 

Albus just stood watching, deciding to let Scorpius figure it out before he gave it a go.

 

“I-I don’t know what to do here.” Scorpius frowned at the hill in annoyance, still laying flat on the ground.

 

“I mean, there’s got to be a way, right?” Albus scanned the terrain. Nothing but scattered boulders and grass.

 

Scorpius pushed himself up. “Can we… I dunno, ask for help or something?” He looked back at all the magical creatures running around.

 

A giant with translucently white hair and huge eyes stared at them from his terrible hiding place of behind a small tree.

 

Scorpius waved at him. “Erm… Excuse me, sir? Do you know how to climb this hill?”

 

The giant nodded.

 

“Oh, great!” Scorpius smiled, relieved.

 

The giant just stared.

 

Scorpius peered at him curiously. “Well… how?”

 

“Confess,” the giant commanded.

 

“Confess what?” Scorpius frowned.

 

The giant lumbered forward to loom over Scorpius. Slowly, he reached down to touch his forehead. Scorpius’ eyes widened and glowed bright blue. Instantly, he fell to his knees and burst into tears.

 

“I didn’t want to remember.” His shoulders shook as he tried to control himself.

 

“Confess,” the giant repeated.

 

Scorpius gasped. “Take it away.”

 

Albus just stared in horror, having no idea what was going on. “Mate, you okay?”

 

“No!” Scorpius yelled back. “Please, let me forget.”

 

The giant stood. “You are burdened.”

 

Scorpius nodded. “Yeah.”

 

“Then you will walk burdened.” Out of the ground, he pulled a yoke, and placed it over Scorpius’ shoulders. On each side of the yoke were buckets full of iron ore. “Stand and climb,” he commanded.

 

Scorpius struggled to stand. Slowly, he walked to the base of the hill, and took a step up. He didn’t slide. Gasping under the weight, he took another step. “I can’t. I can’t.”

 

The giant leaned down to look him in the eyes. “Confess.”

 

Scowling, Scorpius took another step. He was shaking with effort. He managed to take one more step before dropping to his knees. “I can’t. It hurts. Please-”

 

“Confess,” the giant repeated.

 

“No!” Scorpius stood, his back bent at nearly a 90 degree angle.

 

“To conceal the truth is to lie, to lie is a vice.” The giant cocked his head. “Confess.”

 

“I didn’t ask to be taken! It wasn’t my fault!” Scorpius groaned, a bead of sweat sliding down his face.

 

The giant nodded, and removed one piece of iron ore from a bucket.

 

Scorpius gasped in relief and took another step. He grimaced, unable to go farther. “As a kid I was kept in a dungeon for a week!”

 

The giant removed two pieces of ore.

 

Scorpius took two more steps, and cried out in pain. “My uncle Thanatus thought I was the heir of Slytherin.”

 

Another piece removed.

 

Scorpius took three steps. “He thought he could bring Voldemort back through me.”

 

One more.

 

Scorpius was running out of energy. He fell to his knees and gave up. “So he bound me in the chains of Korinth and left me for dead.” Tears were streaming freely down his cheeks. “Aunt Daphne found me and let me go. She killed Thanatus. She warned me never to tell anyone, so I didn’t. We buried him under a tombstone that read  _ Brave soldier- died a hero. _ I forgot. I forgot about it. I didn’t want to remember.”

 

The giant nodded, and lifted the yoke from his neck. “Climb.”

 

Coughing violently and massaging his shoulders, Scorpius stood. He didn’t look back at Albus as he walked up the hill, uninhibited.

 

Albus looked from the giant, to the hill, to the distant form of his friend sitting at the top. He was horrified. What a traumatic experience. What a terrible, terrible thing to endure. He backed away from the hill. “Mate, I’m just gonna stay down here, okay? I’m not doing that.”

 

Scorpius called down to him. “No way! I had to do it, you do too!”

 

Albus shook his head. “Not a chance. That was awful.”

 

“I refuse to be the only one with secrets, Albus! You’d better get up here right now!” He looked angry. “If I had to admit stuff, you do too!”

 

Albus glanced nervously at the giant. “Can’t I just admit something on my own? I don’t want to recall any repressed memories.”

 

“No!” Scorpius shouted

 

“How about the time when I was fifteen and I told my parents I was going to your place, but I really ran off into the forest with Fred and did mushrooms?” 

 

“That’s not even remotely comparable!” Scorpius stood and folded his arms.

 

“I might not  _ have  _ repressed memories!” Albus argued, desperately hoping Scorpius would give up.

 

“Doesn’t matter, get up here right now!” Scorpius’ voice snapped on the last word.

 

The giant tapped Albus on the shoulder. “You must.”

 

Albus grimaced. “He says I have to!” he called up to Scorpius.

 

“I also say you have to!” Scorpius retorted.

 

Albus nodded, and clenched his jaw. “Okay. Okay. Okay. Do it.”

 

The giant reached down and touched Albus’ forehead. It was like apparating, but even more nauseating. Everything lurched and swirled. The world went black, and visions flashed before Albus’ eyes.

 

Psychedelic images of Thestrals danced before him. They swirled in crazy colors, galloping around him. A deep and inexplicable sadness filled him to the core. Not a repressed memory, but a memory he’d never forget was suddenly at the forefront of his mind. Voices rang out in his head, all too familiar words of contempt.

 

_ You’re nothing. Everyone hates you. The son of a Death Eater is better than you in every way. He probably resents you. Your dad hates you. Your whole family hates you. Sociopath. Slytherin Sociopath. Why are you here? Why are you like this? _

 

_ Kill yourself, kill yourself, kill yourself. _

 

_ Okay, I will. _

 

The world spun back into focus, and Albus realized he had fallen to his hands and knees. He felt nauseous. He managed to gasp out, “I think I’m gonna be sick,” before promptly vomiting onto the grass.

 

“Confess,” the giant commanded.

 

Albus wiped his mouth and stood up shakily. He whispered, “I tried to kill myself.”

 

“Louder.” The giant frowned.

 

He couldn’t. He couldn’t. He understood why Scorpius had tried to climb under the yoke. He was painfully ashamed of himself. Unlike Scorpius’ confession, it had been entirely Albus’ fault. He’d been weak. He’d been scared. It had been childish. Saying it out loud meant changing Scorpius’ entire perception of him. Forever. Every time Scorpius looked at him, that’s all he would be able to see. Also, like Albus had told Mr. Malfoy about Scorpius’ seizures, Scorpius might tell Albus’ dad about the incident. He couldn’t bear to see the look in his family’s eyes. He couldn’t bear it if they treated him like he was fragile. But the truth of it was, Albus was fragile. He was ashamed of it, but he was.

 

“I said it, shouldn’t that be enough?” Albus pleaded, looking into the giant’s saucer-like eyes.

 

“Confess,” the giant said again.

 

Albus was shaking uncontrollably. He struggled not to sway on his feet. He called up to Scorpius, “We can obliviate ourselves, right? After this is over?”

 

Scorpius hesitated. “Maybe.”

 

Albus knew they couldn’t. It would defeat the purpose of ever coming. They needed to remember whatever they learned from Perchta. Still, under the pretence of obliviation, Albus found it easier to manipulate his mind into confessing.

 

He forced himself to look Scorpius in the eyes. He refused to look weak when he said it. He would say it like it didn’t matter to him. He would say it like he was even proud. “I attempted suicide.”

 

Scorpius was silent. He was silent for a long time. They didn’t break eye contact, though it was clear they both desperately wanted to. Scorpius cleared his throat. “Okay, come up here.”

 

Albus nodded stiffly and walked up the hill. They stood facing each other, Slytherin masks of apathy on their faces.

 

Thankfully, the awkward silence was broken by the appearance of Perchta. She nodded at them both. “Tradition and rituals. I uphold the sanctity of the past to preserve the future. While I can do nothing to remove your curse, Scorpius Malfoy, I can make it easier to comply. I cannot change your blood, but I can change your mind.”

 

Albus didn’t understand, but Scorpius looked petrified. “You could make me traditional?”

 

“Yes.” She held out her hand to him.

 

Scorpius stared at it, pure terror on his face.

 

“Do it,” Albus said suddenly.

 

“Really?” Scorpius looked at him desperately.

 

“Yes. Don’t think about it, just do it.” Anything. Everything. Albus would do whatever it took to keep him alive.

 

Nodding weakly, Scorpius turned to Perchta and took her hand. She shook his hand briefly, and let go. There was no sign that anything magical had happened. The only thing that changed was that Scorpius looked more relaxed.

 

“Well?” Albus looked him over carefully.

 

Scorpius nodded.

 

Perchta disappeared in a flash of light.

 

“Let’s go,” Scorpius said, walking down the hill.

 

“Er- okay…” Albus followed him warily.

 

In silence, they walked through the chaotic mess of magical creatures, and back through the mineshaft.

 

Albus couldn’t hold his tongue any longer. “So, what happened? Do you feel different?”

 

“Yes,” Scorpius said shortly.

 

“How so?”

 

Scorpius paused for a while before he answered. “I feel disgust.”

 

Albus’ eyes widened, nervous energy rushing through him. “About what?”

 

“Everything.” Scorpius sped up, quickly outpacing Albus.

 

“Mate, hold on.” He placed a hand on Scorpius’ shoulder, trying to slow him down.

 

“Don’t touch me,” Scorpius spat, looking at Albus with uncharacteristic contempt in his eyes. He took a breath and softened his gaze. “Let me get used to this.”

 

Albus withdrew his hand, nodding quietly.

 

In that moment, the stakes became clear. Either they found a cure, or Scorpius would spend the rest of his life like this.

 

They avoided eye contact for the rest of the day. Only after they were in their night clothes, freshly showered and sitting on the bottom bunk, did they finally speak to each other. To Albus, it came as a relief. Not talking was extremely stressful.

 

“We have nothing to do until Russia.” Scorpius informed him. “We’ll stop for a day each in Poland and the Ukraine, but we’ll have to be on the train each night.”

 

Albus nodded. “What will we do in Poland?”

 

Scorpius shrugged. “Sightsee?”

 

“You’re okay with that?” Albus looked him over carefully.

 

“I’m not completely changed,” Scorpius looked at him in annoyance. “Actually, I don’t know how much is different. I guess I’ll have to find out.”

 

Albus was relieved. “Good. Great. I’m glad there’s still parts of you that won’t change.”

 

Scorpius nodded. He cleared his throat and looked at Albus sadly. “Let’s make a pact. Promise we’ll never speak of today again.”

 

Albus cringed, remembering everything. “Agreed.”

 

They were good at pretending. They could pretend forever. Germany would forever hold their secrets, and they would take them to the grave. Easy. Easy. It would be easy.

  
Tomorrow in Poland, everything would be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was dark and annoying. I'll make it up to you.


	9. Pity the Living

Scorpius watched the rain drip down the foggy train window in their private section of the carriage. He carefully adjusted his expression of boredom to convince Albus he wasn’t feeling incredibly awkward. Since the agreement with the Goddess Perchta, he’d been on a spiraling rollercoaster of conflicted feelings. Everything looked different to him. Edges were sharper, people were sallower, and Albus was hard to read. Anxiety mounting, he focussed on breathing slow enough so as not to look nervous. He had no idea who he was. He had no idea the extent to which the spell would affect him. Other than the strong feelings of disgust and contempt, he couldn’t tell any changes. He didn’t know what he believed anymore. He tried to consider his options, but he just felt anxious about both of them. That was nothing new.

“Is the reason you’re not talking to me that we’re not friends anymore?” Albus asked, speaking for the first time that day.

“We’re friends,” Scorpius assured borely.

“Are we-” Albus hesitated. “What do you feel?”

Scorpius didn’t answer. He really didn’t want to discuss it. Honestly, the idea that something was inside his brain, controlling his thoughts was enough to make him want to vomit. And besides that… Scorpius just didn’t want to look at Albus. He didn’t want to look at him and realize something had changed. He thought back to the first time they met. What a strange sort of enchantment on the train that drew you to your future friends. At least, that was the legend. It seemed to be true in many cases. The moment they’d first made eye contact, Scorpius had felt something lurch in his heart. He fell into a stuttering mess, unsure of how to deal with the strange feeling of attachment he felt out of nowhere. He knew who Albus Potter was. He’d been in the headlines of the  _ Daily Prophet  _ for years after he was born. With his father being the celebrity he was, everyone in the wizarding world was obsessed with the Potter children. Scorpius had grown up reading all about them, stunned by their secondhand celebrity. Although, Scorpius had endured a bit of that as well. Sketchy magazines spread rumours of his parentage from the moment he was born.  _ Son of a Death Eater? Or Son of Riddle?  _ People hissed at him when he stepped outside the gates of Malfoy Manor. For that reason, his parents had kept him isolated. Scorpius had known nothing of the world outside the iron fences and manicured gardens of his home. As far as he was concerned, he’d explored to the edges of the Earth. When he met Albus Potter, he melted.

Now, maybe things were different. Maybe he’d look over and no longer feel that flip in his stomach, that pounding in his chest. Maybe he’d be repelled by the sight of his friend, the quality-

No, not quality. Just different.

The difference in his blood.

“Hey- you’re not having an episode, are you?” Albus tapped him on the shoulder urgently.

“No,” Scorpius replied dully. “Not one since Germany.”

“Really? That’s great!” Albus congratulated.

Scorpius shrugged.

Albus made a nervous noise in his throat, either trying not to say something, or trying to say something. “What do you think of me?”

Scorpius blinked, staring out the window. He sighed internally, and turned to face Albus. An awful, sinking feeling churned in his stomach. It wasn’t hatred exactly, but a barrier fell between them. He still felt something good, but it was different. Really different. Not bad at all.

_ This is lust. _

Scorpius dragged his eyes over Albus’ body, repulsion in his throat. How base and dirty it would be to touch him. How disgusted he would feel with himself. Yet, it almost spurred him on. It was repugnant. It was wrong. But damn if it didn’t feel good.

_ It’s not right. Merlin, I feel like scum. I think I might vomit. I’m genuinely nauseous right now. Ugh, I want to DOMINATE. I want him to fear me. I want to keep him at my side and use him. I don’t want to love him anymore. What is this? I really think I might be sick. _

His stomach contracted painfully at the same time as his stupid Muggle trousers felt tighter.

_ No- I want to submit everything to him. Hit me. Call me a Death Eater. HIT ME! Hurt me. Urgh- I feel really really sick. I need to excuse myself. Now. _

“Be right back,” he warned, and without further explanation dashed off to the bathroom. The floor had a slick coating of grime but fuck if that didn’t make it better. He knelt in front of the toilet, grinning through the nausea. He felt manic. He felt high. He laughed hysterically as tears of frustration poured down his face. He wanted to break everything he touched. Looking at the public restroom only doubled his disgust. He gagged at the sight of stains in the toilet, and the smell of shit and piss.

_ I’m losing my mind. _

He really was. Sharp personality changes hit him like rocks. Something was forcing his brain to react this way; it didn’t feel natural.

He gave up on his queasiness, realizing nothing productive was going to happen any time soon. Instead, he closed the lid to the toilet and sat on it with his head bowed, panic building rapidly in his chest. His fingernails scratched up and down his arm like a sick junkie. He was gasping hard, unable to control his breath. His hands twisted up by his head, seeming to have a mind of their own. They clutched at the back of his shirt, trying to pull it off despite Scorpius’ wishes. He’d never wanted his dad so badly. He needed to break down. He needed to hold a pillow to his face and scream until exhaustion sucked his emotions away. Everything was falling apart. He didn’t know what to think.

_ Disgust. Disgust. Disgust.  _ That’s what had changed. Everything was revolting and his empathy felt inhibited. He didn’t care. It was apathy and anger somehow simultaneously. He glanced down at his blank left forearm, wishing for the first time in his life that he had the Mark. At least then he’d have a group to belong to. He felt so alone.

Maybe this was Perchta’s intention. Maybe her blessing was a curse. How stupid could he be?

_ I’d rather die. I’d rather die than be stuck in this limbo of thought. _

He swallowed compulsively as he realized what he had to do. It was all or nothing. He needed the security of tradition. He needed that family of Purebloods who had grown up just like him. He needed community. Russia was the place for that. There was a strong Pureblood community there. Maybe if Albus was introduced to them, he’d be able to change.

He clamped a hand over his mouth and retched hard. What a horrible thought. Converting Albus, becoming a Death Eater,  _ tradition tradition tradition. _ Something was clawing at the inside of his stomach; some repressed and panicking creature. He wanted to cast it out. He wanted it gone forever. He wanted to fall into the self-assured security of Pureblood life.

He needed a drink.

There was a knock on the door. “Mate, you okay?” It was Albus. Wonderful.

Scorpius opened the door, gazing stonily into Albus’ eyes. “Fucking amazing, Albus. Best I’ve felt all year.”

Albus looked uncomfortable with the sarcasm. “What’s the problem?” His voice was small. He must have been scared.

Scorpius’ eyes raked over Albus’ slender figure, mouth watering. “No problem. Different, not worse.” If Muggle clothing had any merits, it was jeans. They looked rough and they fitted to his skin.  _ Ngh, shit I can’t control this. _ “I still like you. A little too much, I think. You might want to back off.” Honest was best, right? Honesty was respectful. Really, he didn’t care enough to lie.

Albus didn’t back off. He just looked confused. “I don’t get it.”

Clearly.

Scorpius bit his lip, unable to look Albus in the eyes, he was so distracted by everything else. He took a deep breath, chest expanding like it might relieve the pressure. “I’m really scared of this.” He continued with the honest policy. “I don’t know what I might do to you.” His breathing halted, realizing he needed to close the door, and not really caring which side of it Albus was on. Anything to dull the desire. Anything including indulgence.

Something seemed to click in Albus’ mind. “Oh.  _ Oh.  _ I-I get it. Okay. Guess I’ll leave you alone then, yeah? Er, I guess- I-I guess I’ll leave you… to it.”

Dulled empathy, disgust, and attraction created a terrible, wonderful potion, and he loved the look of awkwardness on Albus’ face. Loved it. He wanted to hit it off of him.

Scorpius nodded curtly and shut the door. His stomach lurched, and he doubled over in pain. Smiling to himself in an uncontrolled, manic way, he pulled his trousers to his knees and sat on the toilet seat cover. He was fighting the creature in his stomach. It would shrivel and die under the new reign of Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy as his father had initially hoped he’d be. Then, only this wonderful new sense of pride would remain. Right? Sure. Right.

His thoughts raced on a path they’d never taken before, spiraling into depravity.

_ Dirtyblood son of a traitor whore and the vigilante concubine of Albus Dumbledore. _

_ Named for his father’s abuser. _

_ Secondarily named for his father’s nightmare. _

_ Fitting for Harry fucking Potter’s disappointment of a son. _

_ He followed me. He followed me. _

_ He followed me around the world. _

_ He’s in my hands and I could break him, I could hurt him beyond repair. _

_ He feeds me, his weakness, he feeds me. _

_ Intensely co-dependant, he wouldn’t leave. He wouldn’t. _

_ I’d love to take him behind the garden sheds of the manor and let him tear me to bits. _

_ I’d love to have him as my secret, forever; Pureblood Malfoy outside, Albus Potter’s plaything behind closed doors. _

_ It would get out eventually. His dad would scream, and my dad would be intensely jealous. _

_ Because I did it. I made a Potter like me. _

_ I want to drop to my knees and have him use me- evil Death Eater scum. _

_ Hurt me. Beat me until strangers worry for me. _

_ Pureblood elitist racist bastard son of Voldemort. _

_ Tell me I’m evil. I am. _

_ I want to be. _

_ If I can’t be good, I’ll be the worst I can be. _

_ Since you can’t love me, tell me you hate me. _

_ Since I can’t love you, make me cry. _

_ Put your hands on me in anger, dominate me out of sheer rebellion. _

_ Just put your hands on me at all. _

_ Throw me to the ground. _

_ Throw me off a cliff. _

_ -Masturbate over my broken corpse- _

_ Shit, wow. Too much? _

_ No. Go further. _

_ Give me over to your father, I’ll suck his cock too. _

_ Give me no choice. _

_ Make me fight. _

_ Hold me at wandpoint and abuse my body. _

_ Give me no choice. _

_ Use my mouth until you break my jaw. _

_ Morsmordre, Mark me. _

_ Sectumsempra, hurt me. _

_ Avada Kedavra. _

_ I deserve it. I deserve it. I deserve it. _

What a wonderful rush of hormones and emotional release. Scorpius struggled not to laugh, this whole thing was so ridiculous. He quickly cleaned up and slipped out of the bathroom, hoping no one noticed how long he’d been there.

He sighed contentedly as he sat back in his seat next to Albus.

Albus didn’t make eye contact, and stared fixedly at the wall. “Better?”

“Much.” Scorpius grinned, folding over his knees with his head in his hands. “This is so bizarre.” He laughed a little to lighten the mood.

Albus seemed to relax at that. “You’re taking it lightly, then?”

“Of course.” Scorpius sat up, lounging in his seat. “It’s not like I need to take responsibility for this. It’s just the spell, right?”

Albus nodded slowly. “Yeah. Yeah, definitely.” He didn’t look convinced.

Scorpius cocked his head, finding Albus’ discomfort amusing. “Would you rather come with me next time?” He was flirting. Wow. He’d never been so blatantly sexual.

Albus blushed fiercely, but didn’t say no. He just shoved his hands in his pockets as his eyes widened fractionally.

In an effort to seem more normal, less sociopathic, he tried to reassure Albus. “You know, I don’t think you’re bad because you’re half-blood,” he said. “Well, really you’re quarter-blood, so even better. At least you grew up in the Wizarding World, so you’re able to understand our values and culture. And you can’t help that your grandmother was a Muggleborn, it’s not like you had a choice. I know lots of people used to call you a squib, but I really doubt it’s because of Lily Evans. Plus, my dad always said Granger was smart, and her parents are Muggles as well.”

Albus looked at Scorpius like he’d just announced he was a two-headed goat. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

Scorpius was surprised. He’d said it as a compliment. “Well… yeah, I guess. It’s a good thing.”

Albus took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a bit before he spoke. “Look, mate, I’m not gonna argue with you because I know you need to be this way, but if you ever insult my grandmother like that again, I’ll break your nose.”

Confusion washed over Scorpius like radiation. Something in his head felt blocked. “Whoa, I didn’t mean anything bad by it.” He held up his hands and tried to back up. “I think you took that the wrong way.”

“The wrong way?!” Albus’ jaw dropped. “Let’s unpack what you just said for a minute. First, you called me a quarter-blood like that’s superior to half-blood somehow. Then, you implied that Muggles and Muggleborns would be unable to understand the Wizarding World, and overtly praised our values over theirs. Then you insulted Lily Evans, a woman who gave her life to bring down Voldemort. Right after that, you also insulted my magical ability. Finally, you said that my aunt is intelligent  _ despite  _ her parentage as if she’d overcome some intellectual obstacle, like Muggles are stupid.”

Heart beating fearfully at Albus’ rage, Scorpius couldn’t find words. His mind was a clockwork of magical barriers and logical workarounds as he tried to understand Albus’ logic as well as his own. He really respected Albus, and if he was so upset about something Scorpius had said with good intentions, he wanted to try and fix it. It was almost like machinery overheating as Scorpius battled with two sides of his mind. Logic and philosophy battled it out in his head until everything was a blurry, purely conceptual mess. Feeling quite like ants were tunnelling through his brain, Scorpius twitched uncomfortably. He felt a wave of something like Chi run through his whole body, and-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the whole chapter, it didn't cut off by accident.


	10. More Than Our Abilities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't wanna leave y'all hanging too long, so here's the next chapter early.

Time had slowed down by half as Albus watched Scorpius fall over his lap and face-first onto the floor. His muscles twitched lightly for a moment before things got really bad. Severe spasms shook his body, and a whining groan escaped his mouth. Shocked, Albus dropped to the floor and flipped him to his back. He patted him on the cheek softly at first, then harder. Hesitation left him, and Albus slapped Scorpius hard. It did nothing. Scorpius convulsed for another long moment before suddenly ceasing. His eyes were closed, and Albus pulled the lids back to see his irises vibrating at a pace that looked as if it could produce sound. Albus sat shocked, breath freezing in his lungs. There was nothing he could do. There had never been anything he could do. With a rush of guilt, Albus fought against the knowledge that it was his fault, that he had caused this, and tried to shove it away in order to think of something useful. Something useful. Anything.  Albus dashed out of their compartment and screamed for help at the top of his lungs. Terrified faces appeared like gophers from their burrows down the hall. Albus couldn’t focus on any of them. He didn’t know what to say next. He didn’t know how to explain what was happening.

Luckily, one woman in traditional Muggle clothing dashed down the aisle. “What’s wrong?” Czech accent. Lucky she spoke English. “I’m a doctor,” she clarified.

Albus just gaped, unable to move. Terror froze him where he stood. He felt useless and in the way. Scorpius would resent him horribly when he woke up.

The Czech doctor shoved past him and ran into the compartment. She knelt by Scorpius and pulled back his eyelid as Albus had done. “Seizure.” She pointed at a man in a blue sweater who was peering in through the doorway. He quickly retreated under her gaze. “You!” she called out to him, “Alert the conductor we have a medical emergency. Tell him to speed up if possible, we need to get to Gorzow immediately.”

The man nodded fervently, and dashed off.

“You.” She pointed at Albus. “Get your phone out, keep it unlocked, and be ready to call 999.”

Albus just stared. That string of words made no sense to him. “What?” he asked lamely.

The doctor sighed. “He’s in shock. You in the pink dress, be ready to call 999 to tell them to send an ambulance to the Trans-Siberian train station in Gorzow. We’ll be there soon. Don’t do it yet, wait for my word.”

The pink woman nodded, looking pleased with herself that she could help. She held her cellular telephone at the ready, manicured nail hanging over the smooth surface, poised to pounce.

Albus felt nothing but terror. It ate at his flesh and seeped into his bones. In a breath, he realized he couldn’t sense the floor, and he fell backwards into a wall. Everything was freezing, and he shivered uncontrollably. Someone helped him to stand, and someone wrapped a jacket over his shoulders. What wonderful people. So much better than him. Albus wanted to cry, but he was too stunned to move at all.

The doctor carefully rolled Scorpius to his side, and placed a jacket under his head like a pillow. Again, Scorpius started shaking. A strangled noise of terror hit Albus’ ears before he realized he made it himself. He’d never seen Scorpius convulse like that before. Was it due to the spell? Was something different now?

The doctor stood up, and backed away.

Albus startled. “What are you doing? Help him!”

The doctor maintained a cool expression. “He’ll almost certainly be fine, but there’s nothing I can do right now other than keep people and sharp objects away from him.”

That was not a satisfactory answer. Albus moved to be at Scorpius’ side, only to be impeded by the doctor’s surprisingly strong hand.

“You could hurt each other.”

Albus was starting to hyperventilate.  _ It’s my fault. It’s all my fault. I couldn’t accept him as a purist, and now I’ve killed him.  _ He swayed where he stood, struggling to remain upright. Everything was moving too slowly. Nobody was doing anything to help Scorpius, who must be in such pain. Suddenly, the train sped up and acceleration knocked an already unsteady Albus to the ground. He was too dazed to realize a stranger was helping him up. He felt an arm wrap around his shoulders and hug him tight. Glancing over, he realized it was the pink lady, whose telephone was still at the ready.

“It’s going to be okay,” she assured. “I’m here for you.”

Albus just blinked, unsure if a response was even necessary. Anyway, he couldn’t think of what to say.

Scorpius stopped convulsing, and lay motionless on the floor.

The doctor was looking intensely at her wristwatch, glancing back up at Scorpius now and then.

Nothing happened, and nothing continued to happen until the doctor pointed at the pink lady. “Call now.”

The pink lady grinned excitedly and dialled 999 on her telephone. She explained everything the doctor had instructed her to, sounding much too chipper for Albus’ taste.

The doctor quickly moved into the compartment and knelt again by Scorpius. She pressed her fingers to his wrist and put her hand on his chest. She shook him briefly and said forcefully, “Are you okay?” which seemed unnecessary to Albus. He was clearly anything but okay. With quick precision, she pulled his mouth open and stuck two fingers inside, apparently finding nothing of interest, because a moment later, she leaned over Scorpius’ motionless form with her hands on his chest. What happened next brought Albus to his knees.

She leaned with her full weight into his chest, which sank farther than Albus would have thought possible. She did this over and over at a steady pace, and a moment later, Albus heard the horrifying sound of bone snapping. Even so, the doctor continued. She spoke, her voice choppy from effort. “Find an AED.”

Someone ran off. Albus didn’t see who.

The doctor ceased compressions, and pulled back Scorpius’ head before locking her mouth over his. Albus watched Scorpius’ chest rise with a sickening crunch. One more time,  _ crunch-crack. _ The doctor resumed mutilating his ribcage rhythmically.

Albus had no idea how much time had passed before a Muggle returned with a small red box that he handed over to the doctor.

Albus gasped as the doctor tore Scorpius’ shirt in two, exposing his heavily bruised, deformed chest.

That’s what did it. Albus hid his face from the crowd as his expression crumpled and tears finally flowed from his eyes. He tried to watch through the blur of unshed tears as the doctor stuck patches to seemingly specific points on Scorpius’ chest.

There was a long moment of absolute silence before a grinding, metallic voice issued from the box. “Clear and initiate.”

The Muggles gasped, so Albus knew that wasn’t good.

The doctor made sure nobody was touching Scorpius before she toggled a button on the red box.

Scorpius lurched.

Albus wondered briefly if that was a good sign, but all the Muggles just looked sad.

_ No. No. No. They’ve given up. They think he’s dead. Oh no. No, please, no. God, save him. God, save him, please. _

He prayed to a god he’d never believed in before, so desperate he was. The red box let out a high pitched whine, and spoke again. “Increasing voltage. Clear and initiate.”

Scorpius lurched again.

For a moment, everything was still. For a few seconds that extended into eternity, every person on the train stood in awful silence as the doctor ripped off the patches and forced her own breath into Scorpius’ lungs.

Stillness mocked Albus as grief struck him like the weight on Atlas’ shoulders.

When she resumed compressions this time, the sound of cracking bone was music to Albus’ ears. It meant effort. It meant she hadn’t given up.

Then, not music but ethereal, divine sound washed over Albus like a baptism.

Scorpius inhaled violently, his eyes wide like a man who’d just been pulled out of Hell. His mouth formed a shocked circle, and he screamed hysterically. It must have hurt, breathing through broken ribs.

The Muggles applauded and cheered. Albus was instantly surrounded by a tumultuous wave of people hugging him and crying. Albus’ vision tunneled, darkness creeping in and covering his peripheral vision completely. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t move. Relief was too painful, it crushed his soul. An endless barrage of people kissed him according to their cultures. On the cheek, on the mouth, on the forehead.

The doctor was still tending to Scorpius, forcing him to be still, trying to calm him through the pain. Albus heard her tell him not to think. “Don’t try to remember,” she advised.

The train slowed and quieted. Over the joyous cries of passengers, the slightly off sound of foreign sirens blared. Medics shoved everyone away, strong arming the hallway clear. Carefully, they transferred Scorpius to a plastic gurney supported by metal poles. As the medics quickly ushered him away, the doctor who had saved his life approached Albus.

He embraced her, sobbing. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you for saving him, I’m too fortunate that you were here.”

She nodded, and moved him to arm's length, holding his shoulders and speaking seriously, though her eyes were tearful too. “It’s incredibly fortunate that he survived. Despite common belief, CPR has a very low chance of success. Are you his family?”

Albus swallowed roughly until he could breathe, and shook his head.

She nodded. “I want you to contact his next of kin. Next time this happens, it’s up to them to decide whether or not to give him CPR.”

Albus’ breath skipped, and he wondered if he’d heard correctly. “Why wouldn’t we?”

Despite the doctor’s attempt at a professionally distant expression, tears slid down her face. She released Albus’ shoulders and adjusted her posture. “If it were me, I wouldn’t want it. Out-of-hospital resuscitation works about ten percent of the time. The other ninety percent of people experience horrible pain, broken ribs, and intense trauma before dying anyway.”

Albus felt his heart pound then stop as if to show him it could fail at any moment. “Oh,” he said dully. “I- I guess I’ll-” he broke off, choking over a sob. “I g-guess I’ll- I guess- I guess I’ll ask him. Wh-what he…” Albus forced himself to say it. He needed to be strong. “What he wants.”

The doctor looked heartbroken. “If you can, that would be best. But… I want to prepare you for what is likely to happen.”

Albus looked up sharply, suddenly at full attention.

A few more tears slid down the doctor’s cheeks, despite her effort. “What your friend just experienced was a solid fifteen minutes of status epilepticus during a grand mal seizure. That means it was continuous and violent. He suffered cardiac arrest- his heart stopped. The blood supply to his brain was severely compromised. Brain damage can occur quickly after oxygen deprivation. Brain damage from status epilepticus is not insignificant either.” She cleared her throat. “He will need a lot of time to return to his normal self, if he ever can. Best case scenario, he lost some IQ points. Worst case-”

Albus shook his head. “I don’t wanna hear it.”

The doctor nodded curtly.

Albus wiped his eyes fruitlessly and nodded back. “Thank you, doctor. For everything.”

She smiled sadly and cupped his cheeks in her hands. “Good luck to you. And to him.”

Albus couldn’t even move to respond non-verbally. He stood in absolute shock, his eyes glazed over to the point of blindness. There was a ringing in his ears louder than the ambulance sirens. He barely noticed someone wrapping him in a blanket and guiding him out of the empty train. He didn’t notice as he was assisted into the back of an ambulance, and he purposefully ignored Scorpius, refusing to see what state he was in.

The only thing Albus comprehended about the rest of the day was the smell of lemons and bleach, and the color white.

The only thing he comprehended the next day was the smell of food placed in front of him two separate times. He couldn’t eat.

The next day, he saw white robes and thought of Wizards. He wondered if he was home.

The day after that, he realized they were just doctors.

The fifth day in the hospital, he remembered Mr. Malfoy. He had no way to send a letter. No owl, no parchment, no pen.

The sixth day, he realized he needed to shower and eat.

The seventh day, he looked at Scorpius for the first time.

Whatever bruises must still have covered his body, whatever bandages must have bound his chest, Albus was blocked from seeing them. A blue sort of shapeless cloth was made into a simple gown, and that’s what Scorpius wore. He lay in a complicated bed for which Albus had no background to understand. Strings extended from glowing boxes to Scorpius’ chest, arms, legs, and head. It took Albus a long moment to realize Scorpius was awake.

They stared at each other in silence, Albus attempting to convey numerous things with his mind, though he doubted Scorpius was in a position to understand.

He felt apathy. Or rather, he had exhausted all emotion. Maybe he just wasn’t allowing himself to feel anything. Who knew?

Albus continued to stare at Scorpius for a long while. Eventually, he couldn’t take it. “Can you speak?” Though he asked, he didn’t want the answer.

Scorpius blinked and frowned, biting his lip as his face shifted to one of concentration.

That was enough of an answer for Albus. He nodded.

“Okay. Don’t worry about it, mate. It’ll come back to you.” He wasn’t sure if it was false hope. He figured Scorpius didn’t really care, if he even understood at all. Scorpius was looking at Albus with an expression of such sadness, which caused Albus some amount of joy. He was aware of his surroundings at the very least, and possibly aware of his situation.

Albus wasn’t sure if he’d left the chair he sat in at all in the past few days other than to shower. This was the first time he was cognisant of standing. He walked to Scorpius’ bedside, and took his hands. Scorpius smiled. Gently, Albus kissed him on the forehead, and looked away. It was too much to see him like this, and Albus refused to cry in front of him.

“I’ll be right back,” he assured, and quickly stepped outside the door. He sat against the wall, knees pulled tightly to his chest. He was acutely aware that everything leading up to this moment had been his fault. He also understood the ramifications he would face when he finally contacted Mr. Malfoy. He could only imagine how Scorpius must feel, if he could feel at all. Some tiny, dark corner of his brain whispered in his ear-  _ You should have let him die. _

Albus nodded, fully agreeing. There was some strength he could draw from- Acquired Slytherin Sociopathy. He stood, realizing what he needed to do. He quickly made a list:

  1. Contact Mr. Malfoy. Patronus.
  2. Talk to the doctors.
  3. Figure out what Scorpius is still capable of.



He walked briskly down the corridor, chin held high, acting like he owned the place. He nodded curtly to every doctor he passed, and pointedly ignored the patients. There was a courtyard between the ICU, Neurology, and Paediatrics. He wasn’t sure how he knew that. He must have gone there within the past week.

Once standing beneath the open sky, enjoying the soft terrain of grass, Albus cast a furtive  _ Obscuro. _ He closed his eyes and tried to find a happy memory. He stood there searching for a long time. Finally, he smiled, tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Hi. Is this compartment-”

“Free. It’s just me.

“Great. So we might just- come in- for a bit- if that’s okay.”

“That’s okay. Hi.”

“Albus. Al. I’m- my name is Albus...”

“Hi Scorpius. I mean, I’m Scorpius. You’re Albus. I’m Scorpius. And you must be…”

_ “Expecto Patronum!” _

Albus had never been able to produce a corporeal Patronus before. Yet, in the courtyard of a Polish hospital where his best friend lay brain damaged and mute, a silver scorpion burst from the end of his wand.

“Gorzow, Poland. Muggle hospital. Come quickly.”

The Patronus danced into the sky and disappeared.

Albus stood, staring at the cloudless blue sky until the sun burned spots into his eyes. He gazed at his surroundings, noting the motionless statues of unfamiliar figures, the fountain that spat green water feebly into the air, the sound of the birds and the trees and the-

_ Snap! _

Mr. Malfoy stood before him, disheveled and panicked. “What happened? Where is he?”

Albus froze, unable to comprehend the sight. He’d never seen Mr. Malfoy looking anything less than perfect. He’d never seen his hair down before. He’d never heard his voice with that tenor, that terrified prosody.

“Albus!” he snapped, glaring daggers at him.

“Right! Follow me.” Albus dashed off back through the sliding glass doors of the Neurology building. Mr. Malfoy followed at his heels, an uneven rhythm to his footsteps.

Albus stopped suddenly in front of Scorpius’ door. Anticipation and fear gripped his heart. He turned to Mr. Malfoy before they went in. “Don’t expect anything. Don’t expect much from him.”

Mr. Malfoy’s eyes widened to the point you could see the entire ring of his grey irises, so much like Scorpius’.

Albus nodded, and opened the door.

Mr. Malfoy shoved past him, dashing into the room before coming to a sudden halt, looking confused. Scorpius was sitting up. “What happened? You look fine. I didn’t expect you to be awake.”

Albus couldn’t make himself say anything.

“I’m sure you’re disoriented. You remember how your mother used to get, days after her episodes, wandering around like she was sleepwalking.” He walked up to Scorpius’ bedside, taking his hands and smiling. Scorpius smiled back.

Words of explanation hit Albus’ throat and died just before his voicebox.

Mr. Malfoy put a hand on Scorpius’ shoulder, and Scorpius’ face contorted into an expression of such extreme pain, Albus was surprised he didn’t pass out.

Mr. Malfoy quickly withdrew his hand, apologising. “What happened? How did you hurt yourself?”

Albus clamped a hand over his mouth to prevent himself from crying. Again.

Mr. Malfoy looked expectantly at his son for a long time. It was horrible, Albus could see the changes in his stance and in his expression as he slowly realized what was wrong. He melted like a wax figure in the sun.

“Scorpius, can you speak?” he asked weakly.

Scorpius just stared blankly at his father, something missing behind his eyes. The ‘no’ was clear.

“Do you understand me?”

No.

“Can you respond to me somehow?”

No.

“Son, are you okay?”

The first response Scorpius gave him was a slight smile. Possibly random. Possibly he realized who was speaking to him. Albus couldn’t imagine it was anything more than that, but Mr. Malfoy grabbed onto that thin thread of hope, still attempting to pull his son out of his own mind. He nodded. “Good. Good job. I’m going to ask you a few questions, I want you to show me you understand as best you can.”

Scorpius stared blankly, and broke eye contact.

Mr. Malfoy shut his eyes for a long moment, attempting to regain his composure. His voice shook only slightly when he spoke. “Do you know what happened?”

Scorpius’ expression was blank.

Mr. Malfoy nodded, and tried again. “Do you know where you are?”

No response.

Mr. Malfoy paused, grief apparent in every inch of his being. Still, he persevered. “Do you know who I am?” He watched his son’s face carefully for a long moment, but Scorpius didn’t respond.

“Do you know who you are?”

The question hung in the air like heavy fog.

Scorpius looked back up.

Mr. Malfoy sobbed, clinging to his son’s hands like they were his only lifeline.

Albus wasn’t so optimistic. Chances were, it was coincidence.

Mr. Malfoy grabbed Albus by the elbow and pulled him over. “Do you know who he is?”

Scorpius’ eyes flicked over to Albus, and suddenly he knew why the glance had given Mr. Malfoy hope. It wasn’t that he thought Scorpius understood the question, it was that he knew Scorpius understood the world. That look meant everything to Albus, and he gazed open-mouthed at his friend, so incredibly proud of him.

Scorpius’ lip trembled, and he looked away. That made Albus happy too.

When tears fell down Scorpius’ cheeks and onto his blanket, both Albus and Draco broke down. He understood. He understood that something had happened to him. At least that much was readily apparent.

Albus wasn’t sure which of them moved first, but suddenly he and Draco were clasping hands, sharing the horrible, beautiful, tragic, wonderful moment that was the reawakening of someone they both loved so much.

Neither of them looked at each other, but the short conversation that followed was as if they were reading each other’s minds.

Draco spoke first. “Your Patronus-”

“Yes. Yours is-”

“The same.”

“He’s better-”

“Than both of us.”

“I’m sorry. I-”

“Don’t. Whatever you think you did-”

“I did.”

“Nobody has any say over what he does.”

“I think that’s true.”

“However much you think he’s-”

“He’s not.”

“He rules us all.”

They looked at each other, a mutual understanding between them. That was then, this is now. No turning back, no other way. Hope was for Gryffindors and dreamers. Together, they would live in reality, and cherish every minute of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things have changed.


	11. The Darkest of Times

The arrival of the Potter family was loud, sudden, and overstimulating. Albus had been at peace sitting in silence with the Malfoys for the past few days. When his family showed up, he resented them instantly. Moments later, the Greengrass family appeared and stood stoically outside the door, in full wizarding dress. Albus was glad they were there. Unexpectedly, and without invitation, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy pushed their way through the door, shooing the herd of Potters away until only a sea of blond hair remained. Albus stood by the door, watching the reunion.

Tension hung in the air. The only thing these people had in common was lying motionless and unaware in a bed, unable to make eye contact.

Lucius looked stonily at Draco, some unspoken chastization emanating off of him.

“I know,” Draco responded aloud. “I should have known better.” He looked at the floor, childlike submission replacing his stoic regard for his son.

Narcissa approached the bed, stroking Scorpius’ hair as she cried. “He was a good boy, Draco. You raised him well.”

“He raised him to die this way,” Lucius snapped. “He knew of the curse, and he raised him to compromise his values and health for the sake of Muggles and Mudbloods. He knew of the curse, and he still married Astoria.”

The Greengrass family voices clattered in indignant rage.

Narcissa put a hand on her husband’s shoulder. “Without them, we never would have had this child to begin with.”

“Doesn’t matter anymore,” Lucius spat. “Look what’s become of him.”

Scorpius’ other grandfather- Albus didn’t know his name- strode forward to stand practically chest to chest with Lucius. “You speak of the child as if he’s dead.”

Lucius sneered, “Death would be a blessing. This is not a child, this is a soulless, breathing corpse.”

With the speed of lightning, Grandfather Greengrass drew his want to Lucius’ chin. Lucius didn’t even blink. “That’s your grandson you speak of, and mine. I advise you to hold your tongue.”

Lucius smirked. “Like Astoria held hers?”

In an instant, every Greengrass family member stood with their wands out, in attack mode.

Daphne’s voice quivered dangerously. “Be silent, or be silenced.”

Narcissa took Lucius by the elbow, guiding him away.

Contempt and anger still glowing in their eyes, the Greengrasses slowly lowered their wands.

Lucius turned his attention to the family standing just outside the door. “Harry Potter. What brings you to my grandson’s deathbed?”

Albus stepped forward. “I do.”

Lucius smiled dangerously at Albus. His voice was soft, but commanding. It seemed to reverberate through the room and into Albus’ heart. “Well. Little Potter junior. Of course, I’ve heard lots about you. Lots and lots and lots. I know more about you than I do about my own grandson. Scorpius never was able to hold his tongue.” He shot a look at Draco. “Like father like son.”

Briefly, Harry and Draco made eye contact before quickly looking away from each other, which was understandable. Albus had heard a multitude of stories from his uncle Ron about Draco and Harry’s mutual obsession with each other back in school. It was pretty embarrassing stuff, most of it.

Lucius glanced at Scorpius, then sneered at Albus. “I guess now he’ll hold his tongue forever, won’t he?”

Albus stepped forward to meet Lucius. “This is not forever. Give him time, he’ll come back to us. Do you expect him to be fully recovered in a week and a half? How could you give up on your family so quickly? And he can hear you! He may even understand what you’re saying! How dare you speak of him that way while he’s in the room? How dare you speak that way at all?”

Lucius addressed Harry rather than Albus. “Keep control of your ward.”

Harry smiled broadly, and stepped forward to place a hand on Albus’ shoulder. “Disrespect is the most important lesson I taught him.”

Albus grinned, suddenly very glad his dad was there.

A PA in loose fitting, monochromatic clothing rushed into the room. “Non-visiting hours are for family only, and this room is limited to three guests at a time.” She glanced at Albus, expression softening. They’d been together for hours each day, tending to Scorpius’ needs. She looked quickly around at the blond, shockingly similar looking family, and then to the Potters who stood in the doorframe, looking very much out of place. “I’m going to have to ask you to wait outside.”

They easily complied. Albus followed them, though he doubted the PA would have made him leave. She’d been excusing his non-familial presence this whole time, but it was best to let the real family alone to grieve. Draco followed them out as well, looking somewhat relieved to exit the room. He and Albus had both slept there the past few nights, and it was getting claustrophobic.

The PA pretended not to notice the two extra people beyond the limit of three, closing the door softly, and sparing an apologetic glance to both Albus and Draco.

Albus joined his siblings in standing behind his parents. Lily and James huddled together with him, staring at the adults.

Harry approached Draco awkwardly, their distrust of each other apparent in their statures and expressions.

“I don’t know what to say,” Harry admitted, wringing his hands nervously.

“I don’t need your platitudes, Potter.” Draco’s voice and affect were blank.

Harry nodded, and continued nodding, breaking eye contact and muttering filler sounds under his breath. “I want to apologize. I’m sorry… first of all I’m sorry about this whole situation.”

“Don’t,” Draco interrupted. “That’s meaningless. What happened to him was out of anyone’s control, and apologies would be an empty formality.”

Harry nodded stiffly. “Well, if there’s anything my family can do-”

Draco deadpanned,“Not to spoil your pathetic attempt at civility, but we don’t actually need you to sit and stare at my son while he sleeps. If anyone other than Albus did that, I’d probably hex them. And I’m still not 100% about him either.”

Harry huffed, and tried again. “Okay. Err… Then, we’re thinking about you. And, I guess… Some of us probably still pray, so I guess we’ll pray for you.”

Draco looked almost annoyed. “That’s so pointless I’m actually at a loss for what to say.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do?” Harry snapped, then backed up, sighing. “I just… Everything is terrible right now, and it seems like… everything in your life always falls apart.”

Draco scowled. “What a wonderful and sympathetic observation.”

Harry groaned in frustration. “That’s not what I meant, Malfoy, I’m trying my best here. This is hard, you know? Talking to you. You’re not exactly at an intimate register with me, are you? I never even liked you, but I’m trying to be amicable. Help me out.”

“Why don’t you insult my brain-dead son next, Potter?” Draco drawled, “You’re doing such a great job of being supportive here.”

Harry shut his eyes and took a long, slow breath to calm himself. “Could you maybe not be sarcastic for just a second? It’s severely pissing me off.”

Draco’s eyes flashed with anger. “Oh, it’s not sarcasm. It’s just that you’ve got such a way with words, I simply melt.”

“Damnit! Shut up for just a moment, okay? I’m trying to be nice to you!” Harry’s fists were clenched hard at his sides.

“You quite missed your mark.”

“Do you ever cut the irony?!” Harry glared.

Draco shoved him hard in the chest, a look of pure hatred in his eyes. Harry stumbled backwards into Ginny, surprised. “You want me to break it down for you, then? You want honesty from me? Fine! Listen close, ‘cause I’m only gonna say this once. I think you’re an arrogant prick who can’t see the world outside of yourself because your sense of empathy is stunted by your black and white vision of good and evil. You were always suspicious and mistrustful of me from the day we met, and you’re so blinded by your sense of justice that you can’t see that I’ve tried to  _ help  _ you all these years. Any time I fought against you, it was because my own life was on the line. You’re oblivious to things around you, even concerning your own friends. Do you know how lucky you are to have them? They’re the only reason you survived. Yes, I hate you, but at least I have the decency to see your value as a person beyond my personal opinions. You  _ never  _ gave me the same respect. And now you approach me at the lowest point in my life and try to make yourself feel better by spitting out tired sentiments straight out of a lesson book for socially disabled children. But I guess that makes sense, because that’s what you’ve always been.”

Harry stood stock still, color drained from his face. He opened his mouth and closed it several times, searching for words that wouldn’t come.

Draco stepped back, a mask of apathy falling across his face. “Was that too much for you? Would you rather my sarcasm?”

Harry nodded mutely.

Draco smirked. “In that case, I’m all ears. I’m anxiously awaiting your words of consolation.”

Harry stood silently for a long while, mouth gaping like he wanted to speak, but the airflow wouldn’t come. He cleared his throat. “I’ll try to say…” He looked back to Ginny for help, but she just shrugged. “I’m not really so articulate as you, but… We’ve experienced parallels in our lives. We were both destroyed by a war we never wanted to fight in, and we both know what it’s like to have our families die. I guess I don’t want to apologize, nothing I say could fix this. I just hope…” He grimaced anxiously. “I hope everything isn’t this terrible forever. And I hope we can start again.”

Draco considered that for a long moment before giving an almost undetectable nod. “Better. A bit.”

Harry just sighed, shoulders drooping. “I think we should try. More than anything, I appreciate you for raising a child like Scorpius. He’s a welcome part of our family.” He addressed the last bit to Albus, and tried to smile, though his lips were pressed together to form a thin line.

Draco looked for a long moment at Harry, then shook his head and glanced at Albus as well. “And Albus is welcome in mine.”

Albus smiled, appreciating the gesture. James and Lily took each of his hands, squeezing them tightly. Ginny ran her hand down Albus’ cheek and gently patted him on the shoulder. That’s when it dawned on him the true meaning of the words their fathers had spoken. His eyes widened as a snake slithered down his spine. “Is… is that..?”

“You have my blessing,” Draco confirmed.

“And mine,” Harry added.

Albus couldn’t make himself respond. It was a bit late for that, wasn’t it? He wasn’t sure it would be possible to regain the relationship he had had with Scorpius.

Albus’ throat constricted, and he found himself unable to breathe. A confusing jumble of thoughts ran through his head as his expression went blank.

_ I can’t believe they knew. _

_ I can’t believe they’re okay with this. _

_ I don’t need their blessings. I don’t need their permission. _

_ Well, it’s symbolic, I guess. They’re trying to tell me they’re not going to hurt me. _

_ They wouldn’t have hurt me, would they have? Did I really think that? _

_ It’s not traditional, I didn’t think Mr. Malfoy would approve. _

_ It’s a Death Eater’s kid, I didn’t think Dad would approve. _

_ Mum told them even though I asked her not to. _

_ Way to break my trust. _

_ What am I going to do with Scorpius anyway? _

_ What if I can never speak to him again? _

_ Even if he recovers, what sort of person will he be? _

“You look like Scorpius, staring blankly like that,” James commented, pulling Albus out of his own mind.

The entire group gaped at him in horror.

James raised an eyebrow. “Too soon?”

Lily punched him in the arm. “Completely inappropriate.”

Everyone was silent, staring intensely at James. He shrunk, trying to hide behind his brother.

Suddenly, Draco laughed. Everyone switched their attention to him. It looked bizarre to see him that way. Like seeing a mime speak. Then, it was infectious. Soon the entire group was laughing hysterically, unable to control themselves. Nurses and doctors looked at them quizzically, rubbernecking as they walked down the hallway.

Draco gasped, wiping his eyes. “He’s so fucked up, my god.”

Albus grinned at that, surprised by his language.

Draco shook his head, smiling as brightly as he had been contrastingly angry a moment before. “I’ve seen casualties in my life, but this has got to be the most absurd.”

Albus sighed, still chuckling. “Ten galleons says he’s faking it so he can watch us cry about him.”

“I wouldn’t put it past him.” Draco took a deep breath and relaxed, looking at peace. “Shit, what am I going to do with him?”

“Keep him as a houseplant,” James offered.

“That’s so sick, I just might.” Draco nodded appreciatively at James. “Well, at the very least he’ll be perfectly well behaved from now on.”

“You know what, at least he had IQ points to spare,” Albus reasoned. “Maybe if he recovers a bit he’ll just be normal like the rest of us. Well, like James at least.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, including James. Nobody said anything else. Slowly, the mood shifted to a calm regard for the door as they waited for the rest of Scorpius’ family to leave. Albus felt like he could float away, a great weight had been released from his shoulders. Muscles he hadn’t realized he’d been clenching fell to lethargy, and he yawned. He felt like he could stand to eat. He felt like he could stand to sleep.

His dad put a hand on his shoulder. “We’re staying at a hotel nearby. Join us tonight. You should sleep in a bed.”

Albus shrugged noncommittally.

“I think it’s best we head out for now. Wouldn’t want to overstimulate him. Will you be okay?” Harry scanned Albus’ face.

Albus nodded. “I probably won’t go to the hotel.”

Harry nodded back. “Well… if you change your mind, just let me know.”

“Okay.”

Soon after, the door swung open and five shattered individuals shuffled out. They passed the group of Potters and Draco, each group regarding the other like a Quidditch team forced to shake hands after a game. Draco and Albus replace them in the room, not wanting to leave Scorpius alone.

Albus grinned at him as he walked in. “Hey, mate. How you feeling?”

Scorpius smiled.

“Good! Good to hear.” Albus was pretty sure he hadn’t actually understood, but it was nice to see him mildly sentient. He walked over to the bedside, and tucked Scorpius’ hair behind his ears. It hadn’t been cut in a while.

Scorpius frowned, and opened his mouth.

Heart racing, Albus waved Draco over. “No way. Oh wow, no way.”

Scorpius’ face contorted in concentration. He clenched his fists. A moment later, the tension in his body released, and he smacked himself repeatedly on the head, groaning frustratedly.

Albus pulled his hands away, tears springing to his eyes. “Don’t worry. Don’t worry. That was really impressive.”

Scorpius relaxed, and his lip trembled.

Albus and Draco looked at each other in shock.

Draco reached out to take Scorpius’ hands. “You can understand. You can understand us.”

Scorpius’ eyes widened, and the light behind them faded.

“Go get a nurse,” Draco commanded.

Nodding, Albus dashed out of the room and almost ran smack into Scorpius’ PA. He still didn’t know her name. “He did something.”

The PA’s reaction was less than Albus thought it would be. She just nodded with mild interest and followed Albus back into the room.

“Hello, Scorpius. How are you feeling today?” She approached his bed, speaking as if he was just another fully conscious person.

Scorpius looked at her urgently, and gripped the handles on the edge of his bed tightly.

“Well, seems like you’re responding to the Mannitol. Very good. Is your eyesight better?” She picked up the clipboard hanging off the edge of his bed, and withdrew a pen from her pocket, poising it above the paper, ready to take notes.

Scorpius frowned, lips parting slightly.

“Can you see?” she repeated more simply.

Slowly, Scorpius smiled.

Albus’ heart pounded so frantically he worried it would explode. At least he was in a hospital.

“I’m glad.” The woman jotted down some notes. “I’m going to ask you some questions, okay?”

Scorpius released his vice grip on the bed.

“Okay.” She set down the chart and spoke slowly. “Are you in a hospital?”

Scorpius’ face brightened. He looked around himself.

Draco gave a choked sob, sitting heavily down in his chair.

She continued, stepping closer to the bed. “Can you move your hands?”

Scorpius stared at her blankly.

She repeated, “Your hands.” She touched his hands to indicate what she meant. “Can you move them?”

Scorpius continued to stare.

“He did,” Albus told her. “He did move a minute ago.”

She looked at him patiently. “I’m well aware. I’m not testing his physical capabilities, those will likely recover fully in time if they’ve even been compromised at all. I want to know if he can still process receptive language.”

Albus backed off, nodding apologetically. He had only a vague idea of what that meant anyway.

She turned back to Scorpius. “Your hands.” She lifted them. “Can you move them?” She gently moved his hands back and forth to indicate.

Slowly, some amount of comprehension dawned in Scorpius’ eyes. He pulled his hands away from her and folded them on his lap.

“Can you-” she began, and was interrupted by a heart wrenching cry from Scorpius. He tangled his hands in his hair and sobbed uncontrollably. The PA did nothing to calm him. She turned to Draco. “What anticonvulsants is he currently taking?”

He looked like a deer in headlights. “I… none.”

She tutted, and made a note on her board. “I recommend starting him on a regular dose of diazepam, five milligrams intravenously, three times a day. When he is able to, he can take it orally, and we will adjust the dosage accordingly.”

“What does that do?” Draco leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, looking intrigued.

“It should inhibit seizures, as well as relieve the anxiety he seems to be experiencing from the injury.”

Albus had never considered that Muggles had potions too. He supposed that it wasn’t strange since you didn’t need magic to make them, only magical ingredients. Had Muggles figured out the uses of certain magical ingredients? Did they know what they were doing? Mostly, were they as good at it as Wizards? Were they maybe even… better?

“There’s a strong chance of increased seizure activity due to the trauma,” she continued, “besides which, we can’t have him hurting himself by damaging the surgical incision sites.”

Albus and Draco looked at each other questioningly. It seemed they were both thinking the same thing.

“What surgery?” Albus asked, thoroughly confused.

The PA gave him a strange look. “You were there.”

A chill ran down Albus’ spine. How could something so major have happened and he’d just forgotten? “I… I don’t remember.”

She nodded slowly. “It was immediately after you both arrived here. It’s not out of question that you blocked it out.” She looked him up and down. “Do you want some Klonopin or something?”

“...What?” Nothing had happened to him. Why should he take potions? “Why?”

“It could help you cope with the anxiety.” She shrugged.

Did she really just shrug? She  _ asked  _ if he wanted some unknown substance and  _ shrugged? _ What a stark difference between doctors and healers.

“I don’t have anxiety,” Albus argued. “I’m fine.”

She grabbed a small pad of paper off her desk and wrote something on it. “I’ll write a prescription anyway. I won’t force it down your throat, but since you’re an EU citizen- I checked, you both are- it’s fully covered by your insurance.” She tore off the page she had written on and handed it to Albus. He stared at it, Polish writing beyond his understanding.

“The pharmacy is just over in the non-emergency building, so just bring that to them and they’ll give you some.” She turned back to Scorpius. “Can you sit up on your own?”

She continued this line of questioning as Albus stared at the prescription order in silence. Muggle magic was certainly lax. They just hand out potions- medications, they called them- left and right without regard?

But besides that… Albus truly didn’t remember any sort of surgery. When he thought about it, he really didn’t remember anything from the moment they came to the hospital to the moment he’d sent that patronus to Mr. Malfoy. Was that anxiety? Why didn’t he remember? He sat down in his chair and stared into the distance blankly, feeling nothing. The day passed by, and Albus felt nothing. It was only as the lights were dimmed did he realize he’d been still for hours. He’d been staring at the same point on the wall until everything appeared to twist and move. It made him dizzy, but he didn’t have the mind to look away. When the lights were finally turned off, he broke out of his stupor and realized Mr. Malfoy was gone. Albus couldn’t remember when he’d left. He waited, but Mr. Malfoy didn’t return.

Albus didn’t sleep that night. He sat and watched Scorpius, idly hoping he’d do something. Idly wondering if he’d ever do anything like he used to again. When the sun came up, Albus shot out of his chair and left the room, clutching the prescription note the PA had given him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to show the different interactions between the Potter, Malfoy, and Greengrass families.  
> This was kinda a lot of exposition, but I think it's important to know how people feel about each other, and how they react under stress.


	12. Fear of a Name

As the weeks went on, Albus gradually spent less and less of his time in the Polish hospital, visiting at least once a day, but almost always sleeping elsewhere. He’d gotten a new bag and slowly collected new belongings after everything he owned had been lost on the train. He kept everything packed at all times. At night, he bounced around between different hotels, motels, and hostels, otherwise spending the night awake, drinking excessive amounts of coffee at an overnight diner. His health was declining rapidly. He nearly always had some sort of cough or pain in his back or neck. He was deathly pale, and looked as if he’d just crawled out of a tomb. Three weeks after Scorpius’ initial admittance to the Polish hospital, Mr. Malfoy had gone back home. Thereafter, he apparated about once a week to check on Scorpius’ progress and force Albus to eat something with nutrition, but other than that he was a ghost. Albus’ family was worse. They’d collectively sent him three letters over the two months, twice transferring funds and once asking him to come home. Albus had replied to none of them. A litany of correspondences from various doctors and healers around the world were stuffed into the outermost pocket of Albus’ rucksack, which was beginning to feel more like his home than any physical place.

After his ribs had healed, Scorpius was able to move around semi-independently. He did physical therapy several times a week, but Albus doubted it was doing anything useful. It wasn’t Scorpius’ body that was affected, it was his mind. His balance was fine, and he could stand on his own two feet, the only problem was that he’d sometimes run into walls, perhaps not realizing they were there. He and Albus frequently strolled around the courtyard or down the halls to the cafeteria, hand in hand. It was the only thing that felt somewhat normal. Even still, Scorpius’ face was always pointed to the floor, and he wasn’t speaking. He couldn’t quite feed himself either, though he tried. Albus gave him easy foods that could be cut into bite-sized pieces, and he could usually eat with his hands. Fine motor skills were a problem, so he couldn’t hold a fork or knife. When Albus was gone, nurses would feed him. Albus never watched, or did it himself. He couldn’t face that. He couldn’t stand to treat Scorpius like a baby, or anything less than what he was before. Albus spoke in full sentences to him, only occasionally slowing down his speech or using a simpler synonym than he would have liked. Perhaps it was delusional, but he really couldn’t see Scorpius any differently. As far as Albus was concerned, he was just mute. Mute and bad at holding things.

Nurses and therapists were “reteaching” him how to use certain technologies. They wanted him to be able to turn on and off the television, hit the emergency call button, and indicate speech using an electronic sort of tablet thing with pictures on it depicting very basic requests and informative sentences. Albus didn’t even know how to use those devices, so he watched curiously as Scorpius struggled to make his hands do the right thing.

Speech therapy was useless. Scorpius rarely even tried to open his mouth, and when he did, he couldn’t even get basic airflow. Sign language was equally useless, and Albus was a little annoyed they had even tried. He couldn’t pick up a fork, how was he supposed to contort his hands into those weird shapes? Albus could barely do it.

Besides, it wasn’t the physiological barrier that caused most of the problems, it was the mental one. Scorpius barely communicated anything. Sometimes he’d vaguely gesture in the direction he wanted to go, but he always seemed apathetic about it. Albus wondered if he was depressed. Probably, right? Albus certainly was. The only thing that kept him on his feet were the Klonopin tablets he took several times a day. He tried to convince himself he wasn’t dependant on them, but the truth was hard to deny when he mixed them with alcohol recreationally. He’d once woken up with his head in a plate of cold scrambled eggs and a waitress jabbing him the shoulder with a fork.

“You need to leave,” she told him, annoyed.

“Yeah, whatever.” Albus threw down some amount of Polish Muggle currency and stalked out of the cafe to face the dark morning. After a brief while of wandering aimlessly through the streets, he’d gone back to the hospital and resumed passing out in a chair next to Scorpius’ bed.

That day was the first time Scorpius had been able to hold a pen.

Progress was slow, frustrating, and depressing. Worse, they were so alone. Albus tried to convince himself he didn’t want his family there, but there were times he’d sit up at night missing them to the point of tears. He wanted someone to tell him he was doing a good job. He wanted someone to say he was being strong, even though he knew that was a lie. He was falling apart and going nowhere. It often seemed that Scorpius was progressing as Albus regressed, and it certainly felt like he was draining Albus’ life force. He hated thinking that way, but it was true. A huge part of Scorpius had died on the train and would probably never be recovered; taking care of him was like taking care of a complete stranger. A really stupid, quiet, needy stranger. Albus’ emotional connection to him was fading.

He needed to spend more time away from the hospital. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? Anything to get the smell of bleach out of his nose.

He sat in a cafe he frequented, staring slightly off into the distance, ignoring the man who sat across from him. They visited the same cafe often enough to become vaguely familiar, although Albus had never actually asked him his name or made any significant attempt at conversation. They just sat together, staring into their mugs and being in each other’s presence. It was nice. Clearly, neither of them was in a good spot in their lives, given their beaten-down appearances, so they could somewhat relate. Albus was thinking about where he would sleep that night, when the man suddenly spoke up. Albus realized it was the first time he’d actually heard him say anything other than “ _ siema _ ,” which Albus assumed was some sort of greeting, or “you,” which Albus assumed was because they’d never exchanged names.

_ “Jestem chory.  _ Wanna come with me?” He stared into his drink, blinking rapidly.

Albus looked up from his own drink and stared at him blankly. “What?”

“Need a place to sleep?” He looked up, the lines around his eyes pronounced for his age.

Albus shrugged.

“I know a house,” said the man, stirring his coffee with a fork.

Warning signs were flashing in Albus’ head. Why would he say anything now? What had that Polish phrase meant? Probably something like “I’m tired,” or “I found somewhere to sleep.” Albus was concerned. Why didn’t this man have a house, or apartment, or anything? Was he homeless? Could Albus really trust him?

A sudden and uncomfortable realization hit him that he was pretty much homeless himself. He glanced down at the rucksack that held everything he had to his name, and felt a little sad. Maybe he really should go home. Considering his options, Albus traced the outline of the wand in his pocket. He could very easily take down anyone who tried to hurt him, he had a huge advantage over any of the Muggles. Unless…

“Do you believe in magic?” He asked the man carefully; a standard question among Wizards trying to identify each other.

He blinked. “Of course.”

“What do you think it is?” The second question everyone asked.

He shrugged. “I’m really not sure where magic comes from. I don’t think anyone is. I doubt anything like a wizard’s silly spellcasting would be the real magic, though. I think there must be something greater. Something that some people can tap into. I don’t know.”

Albus relaxed. “Yeah, maybe so. Where’s the house?”

The man nodded, and stood. Albus followed him out the door and to a bus station. He’d become rather adept at public transportation, since apparating in the busy city was hard to pull off. It was a long bus ride. Albus tried to rest his head against the window, but the vibrations felt concussive, and he had to stop.

_ I wish Scorpius was here,  _ he thought to himself. He’d been thinking that a lot recently, especially when he was with Scorpius. He imagined how Scorpius used to be, before all this mess.

They’d sit on the bus together, Scorpius looking around in wonder.

“This is gonna be great, Albus,” he’d say. “I think it’s fascinating to see the cultural distinctions between British people and Polish people. Let alone the fact they’re mostly Muggles. I could write a dissertation.”

Albus would roll his eyes, staring out the window. “You do that. I’m sure it would be a fascinating read.”

As it was, he sat silently next to a man he’d never bothered to introduce himself to. They didn’t say a word to each other, though they secretly analyzed each other out of the corners of their eyes when they thought the other wasn’t looking. At one point, the man removed his jacket, exposing his forearms. Instinctively, Albus glanced down at his left before realizing there would be nothing there. Of course there wouldn’t be. On closer inspection, however, there  _ were  _ marks on his arm. Red and pink spots in a strange linear pattern down the fleshy part of his left forearm only. Several of them had bandages taped onto them. Albus wasn’t an idiot, he knew what that meant. With a rush of anxiety, he wondered if what he was doing was stupid. The man must have noticed him staring, because he spoke up. “I’m gonna kick tomorrow.”

Albus nodded, not quite understanding what that meant, but happy for an excuse to look away.

“Today, I’m building up my nerves.”

Albus nodded again, heart pounding. It was certainly stupid, following this stranger to a strange place to do strange things. He just couldn’t find it in himself to care.

_ I wish Scorpius was here. _

He wanted someone to smile at him and make him feel safe. He wanted someone to love him unconditionally and tell him he was worth more than where he was right now. That things would get better. That this was rock bottom and things couldn’t get any worse. Albus was fairly certain he could dig to bedrock if he wanted to.

When they finally got off the bus, the man was sweating profusely. Albus watched him carefully, wondering if he might not keel over and die. They shuffled along at a junkie’s pace, feet kicking up rocks and dust because they barely had the willpower to lift them.

_ This is probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, and I’ve hit on Voldemort’s daughter. _

The man glanced over at Albus, “Are you okay with this?”

Albus nodded stiffly. At this point, he followed more out of curiosity than necessity.

The house was more of a shack than anything. It was small and unassuming, and though the walls were free of vandalism marks, the lawn was overgrown to the point Albus actually saw snakes and rats dashing about. Even so, he and his new friend stalked inside to find a small array of people laying on the ground, on couches, and on bare mattresses that were scattered about. Albus swallowed compulsively, trying to keep his face from betraying his fear. He tried to look like he belonged, like this was something he did everyday. The distant eyes of strangers raked over his body, and he refused to make eye contact. That meant conversation, and Albus was terrified to speak. His friend fell lazily over a couch, and patted the cushion next to him for Albus to sit down.

“I’m gonna kick tomorrow,” he repeated the line from the bus. “Make sure I don’t die today.”

Albus nodded, his guts twisting like worms.  _ I wish Scorpius was here.  _ Scorpius would grab him by the arm and pull him away, telling him he was being manic and stupid. Maybe he was. This could easily be what mania felt like, although he had no reference point. He wanted Scorpius to curl up to him, making the cold night a little warmer. His throat closed tightly, and pressure built behind his eyes.

_ This is where I am. I’ve read about this, and I’ve been warned about this. I promised easily never to do this. It really never crossed my mind that I would. _

Albus choked and coughed on his own breath to repress a sob when his friend actually pulled out a needle. It made it way too real.

The man stopped before doing anything, and turned to Albus curiously. “What’s your name?”

“Albus.” He didn’t want to hear the man’s name in return. He didn’t want to see him as a person. He needed to hide behind this fictional, shallow friendship he’d struck up with this stranger. He wanted him to remain a stranger.

“Albus?” The man asked, putting away his needle. “Really?”

Something cold dropped in Albus’ chest. “Yeah. Why?”

The man gaped at him. “Like Albus Dumbledore?”

Albus shot up off the couch, hand jumping to the wand in his pocket, ready to draw. “How do you know that?”

“Everyone knows that.” The man looked at him curiously. “Dumbledore was a great man.”

Albus scowled. “But not a good one.”

The man looked shocked. “How could you say that?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he asked, “Did you know I’m a Wizard?”

The man frowned and nodded. “Didn’t you know I am?”

“How could I have?” Albus drew his wand, backing slowly away. “Who are you?”

The man held surrendering hands in the air. “Rozrod. Rozrod Grindelwald.”

All color drained from Albus’ face at the name. He’d heard stories, but… he never thought he’d encounter anyone with any connection to the Grindelwald family. Honestly, he had assumed they were all dead. “Bullshit,” he accused. No way. This had to be some sort of joke.

Rozrod tilted his head, looking confused. “Why should I lie? You’re Albus Dumbledore’s grandson, maybe? I’m the grandson of Gellert Grindelwald.”

Albus shook his head firmly. “Harry Potter’s son.”

A look of comprehension dawned on Rozrod’s face. “Albus Potter, then. How strange. How ironic.”

“Is it?” Albus backed away farther.

Rozrod grinned. “Albus, wow. How chance we should encounter each other.” He lounged back on the couch. “Your father killed the cruelest Dark Wizard of his time, and your namesake imprisoned the cruelest Dark Wizard of his time.” He pulled down his shirt collar slightly, revealing the sign of the Deathly Hallows. “What a stigma we both carry.”

_ I wish Scorpius was here. _

“Who’s Scorpius?” Rozrod asked.

Panic.  _ Panic. _ PANIC! He was reading Albus’ mind. Albus backed off farther, wand shaking uncontrollably. “Don’t do that.”

“Oh, sorry.” Rozrod did look genuinely apologetic. “It’s just that you think his name quite a lot, and quite loudly. I couldn’t help but notice. What’s his surname? Is he like us?”

Like us. Like us. Albus didn’t want to be like him. He wanted to be as different from him as possible.  _ Like us.  _ As if Potter and Grindelwald were the same.  _ Although, maybe Malfoy is a bit more comparable. _

“Malfoy? Scorpius Malfoy?” Rozrod smiled broadly. “What a small world this is.”

“DON’T DO THAT!” Albus shouted loud enough for the whole room to hear. Heads turned.

Rozrod shrunk. “I’m sorry. Really, I’m sorry. I’ll try not to.”

Albus’ heart was pounding, and his mind felt fuzzy. He bent over at the waist, not fully convinced he wouldn’t be sick. How could this be happening? How could this be happening  _ again?  _ It seemed like Albus drew stigmatized names to him like a magnet. Malfoy. Grindelwald.  _ Riddle. _

“Riddle? Tom Riddle?” Rozrod’s eyes widened with fascination, then he grimaced. “Sorry! Sorry, Albus. I’m sorry.”

Albus backed quickly away until he hit a wall. Grindelwald, Malfoy, Riddle. Nott, Parkinson, Flint. Lestrange, Diggory, Slytherin.

_ A dark cloud. A dark cloud really does surround me. _

Rozrod stood, approaching Albus carefully. “Are you going to hex me? Please don’t.” He looked so defenseless. He hadn’t drawn his wand. “I’m not going to hurt you. I haven’t all this time, have I?”

Albus swallowed hard, warning signs still flashing through his mind.

“Are you going to hate me now because of my name? I thought you’d understand.” He looked almost sad.

Albus’ eyes blurred over. The whole world trembled before him, and he couldn’t focus on anything. He held his head in his hands and began to hyperventilate. Slowly, he slid down the wall until he was curled in fetal position on the floor.

Rozrod sat next to him. “Hey- it’s okay. I know you’ve been under a lot of stress.” Hesitantly, he touched Albus’ shoulder. “So… Who’s Scorpius Malfoy? I mean, who is he to you? You have strange feelings behind the name.”

“Don’t,” Albus warned. He really didn’t want to even think about Scorpius. He didn’t want to remember Scorpius. He just wanted everything to be better.

Rozrod made a noise of consideration. “Well… I mean, do you need a hug or something?”

Albus looked up suddenly.  _ “What?” _

Rozrod shrugged. “I dunno. Sorry, I’m pretty bad at making friends…”

“That might be why,” Albus quipped. He was glad they’d never spoken before that day. He’d never have sat near Rozrod again.

Rozrod looked hurt. “Hey, I’m just trying to be nice.”

“Would you quit doing that?” Albus glared. “It’s really invasive.”

Rozrod sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I’ll try. But… you know I can’t help it, right? I’m not forcing my way into your brain, it’s just this thing that happens.”

“Must be loud and annoying,” Albus scowled.

Rozrod was silent for a long time. When Albus looked up to check on him, he looked blank. Like he’d been to hell so many times he was bored by it. “I see the darkest of humanity. I see the filthy thoughts and the evil impulses. I see paedophiles and psychopaths, I see suicide and homicide, I see minds so empty they drag along the ground through the dirt and don’t even notice.” His grip on Albus’ shoulder tightened. “I have to remember the beauty. Humanity can also be wonderful. I can see altruism and unconditional love. Compassion and passion. Friendship and faith. I struggle to see the good as well as the bad.” He looked down at his lap, and released Albus’ shoulder. “What a blessing of compassion this gift brings me. I can see the pain and try to help. That’s not what my grandfather did.” He looked at Albus seriously. “He saw the depravity and selfishness and violence, and he vowed to destroy it all. For the greater good.”

Albus swallowed roughly, and tried. He tried to extend that same compassion. It only felt right. If Rozrod could show honesty, Albus would thank him for it. Honesty is a rare commodity. He pulled Rozrod into a hug and held him for a long time. When he pulled away, Rozrod looked surprised.

“Thank you.” He pressed his lips together and shut his eyes tight. “Nobody’s ever done that to me before.”

The thought of that wrenched Albus’ heart. Nobody should ever be so starved for human contact. With a sudden rush of empathy, Albus trusted Rozrod. How could he not? The poor child sat, small and emaciated, overwhelmed by the most basic gesture of kindness.

“I think you have a beautiful mind, Albus. You’re full of compassion and love. Even though you struggle, you’re strong. So much stronger than me.” He gasped, and broke out into a cold sweat again. “Compassion and love take their tolls, and we all find our own way to cope.” He stood up shakily and walked back to the couch. “I’m gonna kick tomorrow, but while I’m here, let’s be here for each other. Okay?”

Albus nodded mutely, and followed him to the couch.

Rozrod prepared his poison like a man at an altar, worshipping his god. As the acrid chemicals hit his system, Rozrod managed to mutter, “Will you talk to me? I can’t stand to hear these poor people’s thoughts anymore.” His chin hit his chest, and a lazy smile spread over his face. “You love so strongly, Albus. Let me vicariously know what that’s like.”

Albus didn’t know what to say. He tried and tried again to find words, but everything he thought of was sarcastic and biting. He couldn’t remember how to have an honest conversation. Then Rozrod looked in his eyes, wild truth piercing through the fog of heroin and humanity, and suddenly Albus knew what to say.

“Loving Scorpius was my everything. It permeated every aspect of my life. I loved him so strongly I couldn’t think of sex or even romance. All I ever thought of was how happy I was when I was with him. If I never knew anyone else, that would be okay because he was there. He’s what tethered me to reality, and when he was taken away, so was I. When I was forbidden from him, I lost all interest in the world. So much so that I didn’t want to be in the world at all. I never thought we would be in love how others are in love. But… being with him out in the world, I realized we already were. It happened without my knowledge or consent. It snuck up on me and quietly consumed me. If I couldn’t read his mind, I could read his soul. Now, his mind is impossible to see, and his soul is changing. His mind is hidden behind some concussed and dying barrier, and I can’t see him anymore.”

Rozrod opened his eyes and whispered so softly Albus almost missed it. “I can.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry y'all- I got this.


	13. A Well Organized Mind

Sickly light filtered through the shutters of the dilapidated shack. On the ground, bodies were stirring. In the corner, a woman sat crying, her arms around her stomach. On a mattress by the filthy kitchen, a man huffed loudly as he fucked a passed out girl with a belt around her arm. Against a wall, a man lay dead. Only in the center of the room was there joy; six or so people were smoking marijuana, laughing and patting each other on the back. Their eyes were bright, and their bond was intimate. Albus watched them, trying to ignore the depravity of the corners. A girl with a shaved head made eye contact with him, and waved him over. Albus shook his head, and she shrugged and turned away.

Rozrod was still asleep, arm thrown across Albus’ waist, head resting on Albus’ shoulder. Albus nudged him, and he wrapped his arm around his waist tighter.

“Wake up,” Albus whispered. “We should leave.”

Slowly, Rozrod blinked his eyes open. “Oh. Albus Potter. Good morning. You had lovely dreams.”

“Mhm.” Albus pulled Rozrod’s arm off him and stood. “I need to get back to the hospital, so…” He took a deep breath, hoping against hope that the answer to his next question would be yes. “Did you mean it? Last night? Can you read Scorpius’ mind?”

Rozrod yawned and stretched, still sitting on the couch. “Yeah, probably.”

Waves of joy crashed over Albus’ head, nearly knocking him to his knees. “Come with me. Please. I need to know.”

Rozrod looked around at the scene before him. “I was gonna kick today.”

He’d said that a lot, yeah. Albus nodded slowly. “So…”

“So, if I’m going to make it to the hospital, I need to fix again.” He glanced down at his arm sadly. “So, hold on, I guess.”

Albus didn’t understand. “What do you mean?”

Rozrod looked at him like he was stupid. “I mean that unless you want me to get all Sick-Boy Trainspotting-y, I’m gonna have to shoot up again.”

Albus could only assume that was a reference he didn’t get, and he could only assume it was bad. He didn’t really care. All he wanted to know was what was going on in Scorpius’ head. “Okay.”

Rozrod nodded, and repeated the ritual from the night before. Albus watched his face. It looked like the world’s best orgasm and like what Albus hoped heaven would be like, if there was such a thing. It looked as if sunbeams could radiate from Rozrod’s skin. Albus’ heart stopped. It looked beautiful. It looked like the polar opposite of the depravity that surrounded them. He wanted to reach out and touch... so he did. He ran his hand along Rozrod’s cheek, a strange sort of desire hitting him hard. He sat back down on the couch and wrapped an arm around Rozrod’s shoulders. He buried his head in Albus’ chest, and Albus’ heart flipped.

“Albus Potter, wow.” He hummed contentedly. “I made a friend. I actually made a friend.”

Suddenly, Albus felt extremely uncomfortable. He glanced at the door, itching to leave. “Can we go?”

“Just a minute.” Rozrod threw his full weight into Albus, sending them tumbling to their sides. “You’re wonderful.”

“Mkay.” Albus tried to get up, but Rozrod’s deadweight wouldn’t let him. “Buddy-”

“I know.” Rozrod sighed and slowly sat up. “I’m very happy.”

“I can tell.” Albus raised an eyebrow, considering the sight before him.

Rozrod stood, wobbling a bit, but fine. “Hospital. Scorpius Malfoy. Okay, yes.”

Like pulling a motor cord, Albus’ heart kicked back into gear. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Rozrod beamed, throwing his arm around Albus’ shoulders and steering him out the door, like the Wizard of Oz. Funny, heroin was prevalent in that story as well.

“Haha, yeah!” Rozrod laughed. “We’re off to see the Wizard! Scorpius Malfoy!”

Albus couldn’t help but smile at that, even though it still was a bit annoying.

When they finally stood at the front gates of the hospital, that ominous building overlooming them, Albus had second thoughts.  _ I could run away. I could run away and never have to see him again. _

Rozrod grabbed his elbow and dragged him through the gates, probably- no, definitely knowing what Albus was thinking.

Albus knew the route without having to look, which was good because he didn’t want to. He knew where they were by smell as well. He knew where they were by the emotions in each room. Upon entering long-term care, Rozrod gasped, and hung his head to the floor.

Albus wasn’t sure if he should reach out in comfort. He decided against it. It had to be hard, knowing the hopeless thoughts of everyone in this ward.

They shuffled along, growing more anxious the closer they got to Scorpius’ room. Finally, they stood outside the familiar door. Albus opened it slowly. The lights were on, and Scorpius was sitting up in bed, watching some TV programme meant for children. When the two entered the room, Scorpius’ eyes were immediately drawn to Albus’, and he smiled. Slowly, his eyes shifted to Rozrod, and comprehension slid off his face.

Albus approached the bed warily. “Hey, mate. This is Rozrod Grindelwald. He’s here to help us communicate, okay? We can talk to each other. He can read minds.”

Scorpius’ eyes widened, and he slowly smiled.

Rozrod smiled at Scorpius and promptly sat himself down at the foot of the bed. “Nice to meet you, Scorpius Malfoy. I quite like your friend here. Do you mind if I turn off the TV?” He paused for a long moment and restated. “I’m going to turn off the TV.”

Scorpius stared at him, and Rozrod stared back. Albus watched nervously, hoping everything was okay.

A moment later, Rozrod turned to Albus. “Yeah, I can see his thoughts.” He turned off the television.

Albus felt like crying. “So…” He almost didn’t want an answer. He was terrified to finally know. It meant there could be no more pretence. No more mystery. Just stark understanding, and he might not like what he heard. “How is he?”

“Kinda quiet.” Rozrod shrugged.

“No shit, he hasn’t said a word in months.”

Rozrod ignored that. “He understands, but it’s weird. Really weird.” Rozrod scratched his arm self consciously. “Like he’s drugged. I can’t explain it.”

Albus looked away, not trusting himself not to cry, and he hated to do that in front of Scorpius. “Okay. Okay. I guess… I guess I expected that.”

“But…” Rozrod was silent for a long moment, peering through Scorpius’ eyes analytically. “What’s that? What’s that barrier in his brain?”

_ Oh yeah. The enchantment. _

“Enchantment? What kind?”

“We… We tried...” Albus wasn’t sure where to begin. He figured he’d start from the beginning. He sat himself down on the bed, next to Scorpius. With a deep breath, he began. Rozrod listened silently. He probably was hearing more than just the words Albus was saying. He looked as if he understood deeply, and Albus had to figure he did. It was difficult to say it all, because there were so many times Albus wondered if they’d made the right choice. So many times it could have gone differently, and maybe it would have been better. And… there was a deeply repressed but significant part of Albus that wondered if he shouldn’t have let that doctor perform CPR at all. Maybe all this pain was too much, and it would have been kinder to let Scorpius go in relative peace.

When Albus had finished his explanation, Rozrod nodded seriously. He frowned, mouth open slightly. “I… I really don’t think you were wrong, Albus. I think… I think it’s unhealthy to dwell on the past, and dangerous to change it even if you had the ability. I think the most important thing to remember is that you did everything out of love, and you did everything with the best of intentions. And as for whether you should have…” He looked at Scorpius, “Well, I heard what you thought. About what happened with the doctor. I can’t make that call. You can’t make that call. That’s something beyond our understanding, and inappropriate for public forum. That’s a very personal and very difficult decision. I think…” He looked away, shaking his head sadly. “I think this is going to happen again. And I think it will continue to happen unless something is done very quickly. I see the neurons in his brain, and they misfire. A lot.” He addressed Scorpius, “This is tough, man. I really feel for everything you’ve been through. You have a choice to make. You can keep going, or you can stop. Whatever you choose, we’ll respect it.”

In that moment, Scorpius made the most significant attempt at communication he had made since the episode. He nodded.

Rozrod nodded back. He sat still for a long while, his eye contact with Scorpius strong and unbreaking. Then, he nodded. He spoke in first person, leaving himself out of the conversation- a mouthpiece only. “I won’t give up. I won’t let go.”

That was far too much for Albus to handle. He wrapped his arms around Scorpius’ middle, pulling him close and holding him firm. He couldn’t speak. There were no words. He couldn’t remember a single one. All he had were feelings and concepts he didn’t know how to voice.

“Exactly,” Rozrod spoke up. “Exactly.”

Albus froze as the meaning of that dawned on him. He pulled back slowly, looking into Scorpius’ eyes. “You lost your language.”

Slowly, and with great effort, Scorpius nodded.

“But…” Albus again was at a loss for words. “But you understand me.”

“When you speak, I understand. When I speak, I can’t recall a thing. It’s like the words aren’t available. My library is empty. My thoughts are psychedelic nonsense, and listening to you is like breaking through that haze. It’s hard, but I can do it. Sometimes, your words sound warped, and my mind spirals a thousand different directions until I wind up at infinity and philosophy. At that point, I have to give up. Sometimes it’s too hard to try to understand, and I feel sorry. I know this hurts you, and I know it’s asking too much for you to stay with me. But you have, and I’m grateful.”

He sounded like himself. With Rozrod’s voice, and Scorpius’ mind. Albus was so happy to understand. It was like breathing after being underwater for so long.

“I’m so happy to be understood.”

Tears slid down Albus’ cheeks, but he felt no sadness. “Do you want to leave the hospital?”

Scorpius hesitated, thinking.

Rozrod nudged Albus gently. “Rephrase that. Don’t make it a question. At least…” He pondered for a moment. “Don’t make it an open question. Give him options.”

Albus nodded, trying to think how he could say it. “You could leave. You could go home.”

Scorpius nodded. “I want that, but I have to explain… I don’t know how the world will look anymore. Everything is different colors, and everything is off and confusing and often sickening. Like a fever dream. Everything glows with a new spirit and a new life. Nebulous, galactic fractals I can’t chase after, because I’m not infinite.”

Rozrod shrugged. “That’s the best I could do with that. His thoughts look like LSD.”

Albus had at least a little experience with that. He could understand how confusing and terrifying it must be to live in perpetual state of psychedelia.

“I want to go to China.”

Albus raised an eyebrow. “Erm… No? No, that’s not happening.”

“I’ll go alone.”

Albus almost laughed. “Dare you.”

Scorpius met his eyes with the challenge, and slowly climbed out of bed. Carefully, he walked towards the door. Rozrod watched him, amused. Albus watched him, concerned.

“I can check myself out of here.” Scorpius pulled the door open, and disappeared down the hallway faster than Albus would have thought he could.

“Damn it!” Albus jumped off the bed and chased after him. Rozrod followed more slowly, ambling along like they had all the time in the world. “Little help here, Grindelwald?” Albus called over his shoulder.

“Yup.” Rozrod was looking around, grinning in every direction.

Albus slowed down and dashed back, grabbing his elbow and dragging him along. Rozrod stumbled after him, looking offended.

“Oi, it’s not like he can actually do it.”

Albus stopped, thinking about that.

“You really think he can write his name? He barely remembers his name.”

Good point. “He’s bluffing, then?”

“Yeah, of course.” Rozrod peered into a room with the door open, raising his eyebrows curiously. “Besides which, he needs a guardian. So, unless his dad is here, I really doubt they’ll let him go. He’s seventeen. That’s not an adult to them.”

A slow smile spread across Albus’ face. “Gotcha.” He looked down the hall. “Alright, mate, you do that. Your life, your choice.”

Scorpius froze, and turned around scowling.

Rozrod coughed. “Like… a string of swear words, I guess.” He laughed. “Call my dad.” Rozrod turned to Albus, shaking his head in amazement. “He totally knows what’s going on.”

Closing his eyes, Albus tried to calm down. He supposed he should call Mr. Malfoy. He figured he wouldn’t let Scorpius go, and it only seemed right to let him talk to his son. He glanced up and down the corridor, making sure no one was watching.  _ “Expecto Patronum!”  _ Glowing white light, and the scorpion appeared before him.

“Aww, that’s so  _ sweet!” _ Rozrod commented, clapping Albus on the shoulder.

Albus ignored him. “Mr. Malfoy, you should come here today. We found a way to talk to Scorpius.”

Not five minutes after the Patronus had gone, Mr. Malfoy dashed through the door, out of breath. “How?” He looked between Albus and Rozrod, then his eyes finally came to rest on Scorpius, who was standing with his arms folded angrily off by the door. He walked over to his dad and leaned into his side, still glaring at Albus.

Mr. Malfoy wrapped his arm around Scorpius’ shoulder, looking at him with pure love. “How do we do this?”

Rozrod stepped forward. “Draco Malfoy. I’m Rozrod Grindelwald.”

Understanding crept into Mr. Malfoy’s expression. “You read minds. Like Gellert Grindelwald.”

Rozrod nodded. “He’s my grandfather.”

“So you can-”

“Tell you what he’s thinking, yes.” Rozrod smiled lightly, great importance falling between him and the Malfoys.

“So he is? Thinking, that is.” Mr. Malfoy ran his fingers through his son’s hair, hesitantly hopeful.

Rozrod shrugged noncommittally. “In a sense, yes.” He gestured for the small group to follow him back to Scorpius’ room as he explained. “He can’t do expressive language, but he can pretty much understand receptive. In his head, everything is pictures. My bet is that questions are going to be too hard for him. If you don’t say very explicitly what you mean, he’s going to run through every possible option in his head and argue himself into confusion. He’s got a very mathematical mind; don’t give him algorithms without defined variables.”

As they reached Scorpius’ room, Mr. Malfoy sat on the bed and gestured for his son to do the same. Scorpius stood his ground, not moving a step beyond the door frame.

Albus took a chair, and Rozrod took the other. All three stared at Scorpius expectantly.

Rozrod cleared his throat. “You’re probably going to have to speak first.”

Mr. Malfoy nodded. “How can we help you?”

Rozrod cleared his throat again.

“Oh, right.” Mr. Malfoy rephrased. “Do you… hm. How do I do this?”

“Options. Like this: Scorpius, we could go to the courtyard now. We could also stay here.”

Scorpius nodded. “I want to leave the hospital entirely. Dad, sign me out.”

Mr. Malfoy stared, awe in every aspect of his being. “We can’t. I’m sorry, we can’t. You need more time.”

Scorpius’ face crumpled, and he stared at the ground. “I hate it here. I feel atrophied and wasted. Just sign me out, I’ll come home with you.”

“He’s lying,” Albus interjected. “He still wants to go to China.”

“Oh, screw you, Albus!”

“You can’t fucking go to China, idiot!” Albus stood up quickly, almost knocking over his chair.

Anger dropped quickly from Scorpius’ face, to be replaced by hurt. His eyes were wide and he looked as if those words had whipped his very soul.

Rozrod put a hand on Albus’ shoulder, pulling him down, back into the chair. “I…” He looked uncomfortable. “You probably shouldn’t call him an idiot.”

“I didn’t mean-”

“Yeah, but he knows it’s true. He knows acutely that he’s not nearly as smart as he used to be.” Rozrod swallowed compulsively, and looked away sadly.

“But he…” Albus didn’t know what to say. Shame rose in his throat. “He sounds fine.”

“You’re hearing my voice, not his. Remember that. It’s only an interpretation, I can’t translate the insanity in his head.” Rozrod glanced up at Scorpius and looked away quickly. “It’s wild and erratic, and he can’t grasp the same concepts he used to. There’s an entire world above his head that he no longer has access to.”

“He’s fine,” Albus insisted, unable to believe that Scorpius was any different. He just couldn’t speak, right? He just couldn’t answer questions.

“He’s really really not.”

The mood of the room turned dour.

“I’m… sorry,” Albus couldn’t meet Scorpius’ eyes. “I didn’t mean it.”

“Yes, you did.” When Albus looked up, Scorpius’ eyes were clouded with tears. “It’s fine, I am.”

“You’ll come back.” What a useless platitude. Albus had no idea if it was true.

“No, I won’t.”

Albus turned to Rozrod for confirmation.

“No, he won’t.”

Mr. Malfoy stood. Albus had almost forgotten he was there. Slowly, he walked over to his son and pulled him to his chest. “It doesn’t matter if things are different. Things never stay the same. That’s okay.”

Scorpius wrapped his arms around his father’s waist.

Rozrod whispered to Albus, “That’s what you should say.”

Mr. Malfoy turned to Rozrod. “Will you come with us to China?”

Albus and Rozrod’s jaws dropped simultaneously. “Really?” they asked in unison.

Mr. Malfoy nodded. “If that’s what he wants, I’ll move mountains to make it happen.”

Silence filled the room like floodwater. There was a mutual understanding between everyone- Albus wasn’t sure what it was, but he knew it was good. They signed Scorpius out of the hospital, and doctors and nurses said joyful goodbyes. Albus and Rozrod walked shoulder to shoulder through the streets of  Gorzow, trailing closely behind the Malfoys who were stuck together like they had become the same person. They ate a silent but comfortable breakfast at a nice cafe, where people stared at them judgmentally. It was about a 50/50 split between patronizing pity and patronizing contempt. Albus almost smiled, realizing what they looked like. Two affluent philanthropists feeding two hungry gypsy kids. They certainly didn’t look like a family.

That’s when it hit him. That was the mutual understanding between them. All of them together like this- they were complete; a patchwork family held together by love and stitches. Albus looked around their table and choked up a little. He’d never felt this much compassion and togetherness in his life. Scorpius looked up from his plate of ham on toast cut to bite size pieces, and smiled at Albus. Albus smiled back, and everything felt warm, like a cup of tea after a cold day. Everything felt… normal.

Finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you I got this. :D


	14. Inflicting Injury

Thick blackout-curtains hung over the panoramic hotel windows, painting the room pitch black. It was the nicest, warmest place Albus had stayed in months. It was probably the nicest place Rozrod had stayed ever. Albus frowned. That was a bit judgemental. He didn’t know Rozrod’s backstory. He should probably ask sometime. The hotel suite was split into three rooms: one with a single queen sized bed, one with a couch and a TV, and one with two double beds. Albus and Scorpius lay in one of the doubles, Albus feigning sleep. Rozrod sat up in the other, humming tunelessly to himself. He shifted around a lot, grunting uncomfortably. He occasionally swore under his breath, leading Albus to believe he was in withdrawal.

“Morgana le fucking hell!” he whisper-shouted at one point. “Calm the fuck down, Scorpius, I can see  _ all  _ of that!”

Scorpius sat up, and switched on the lamp. He hung his head, laughing silently. His ears were burning red, and Rozrod was sweating so much he looked like he’d just gotten out of the shower.

“It’s not funny!” Rozrod scolded. “I already feel sick, and that’s not helping.”

Scorpius laughed harder, holding his head in his hands.

“Can you not?” Rozrod stood up. “Can you really not? Just for tonight?”

Scorpius looked up at him, grinning broadly.

Rozrod turned green and clamped a hand over his mouth. “Okay, nothing to do with you, but I’m gonna go puke my guts out for the next hour. Deal with yourself before I get back.” He dashed into the bathroom, and slammed the door behind him. “Albus, do something about him!”

Albus sighed, and pushed himself up as well. He looked at Scorpius, annoyed. “What?” Mm, no. Question. “So… I’m supposed to do something. Show me.”

Scorpius smiled, something lighting up in his eyes. He moved closer to Albus, far within his personal space. They were less than an inch away from each other, and Scorpius’ gaze was just below Albus’ eyes.

Albus swallowed nervously. “I guess you can’t get any more explicit than that.”

Scorpius placed his hands on the bed behind Albus, and their noses touched.

“You have a lot more dexterity now. Guess that means improvement.”

Scorpius rolled his eyes.

Albus was at an impasse. It was probably not a good idea for several reasons. One: Mr. Malfoy was just in the other room, with nothing but a couple yards and a thin door separating them. Two: Scorpius’ mind wasn’t right, and that was highly disturbing. Three: Albus had no idea what could trigger another episode, and he was pretty certain that it would kill Scorpius this time. On the other hand… he really really wanted to.

Scorpius didn’t give him a chance to decide. He locked their lips together in the most blatantly sexual way they had ever done. Albus placed his hands on the small of Scorpius’ back, stabilizing him.

Years of sexual frustration came pouring out of him. He suddenly stopped caring how frail Scorpius might be, and practically lifted him into his lap. Albus’ heart leapt into his throat. Something violent and incensed clawed at his stomach, and he struggled to stay in control. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” he chanted softly. “I don’t care what’s different.”

Scorpius grabbed Albus’ shoulders and pulled him down on the bed, so that he was laying on his back. Albus’ knees were placed on either side of Scorpius’ hips, and he looked down at him in amazement. He couldn’t believe he was allowed to do this. Scorpius had never been so forward before which… Yeah, that probably had something to do with the brain damage. If he couldn’t think beyond vague images and feelings… hm. He probably didn’t understand the difference between feeling something and doing something. Maybe his impulse control was gone. That was a terrifying thought. Albus sat back and Scorpius looked at him, confused.

“Mate, we gotta talk.”

Scorpius looked at him like he was being and idiot.

Right.

“Okay, well we need to communicate this somehow.” Albus scratched the back of his head, breathing deeply to calm himself down. “I wonder…” No questions. Damnit. “There’s a difference between… ugh, okay. I need to know what’s right here, and I don’t really know how to figure it out.”

Scorpius stared at him blankly, something shutting off in his eyes.

Albus sighed and climbed over to his side of the bed. “You don’t understand me, do you?” He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. “What  _ do  _ you understand?” He groaned in frustration. “Is it fine because you want to, or is this really really fucked up like I think it is? You can’t think, and you have the self-consciousness of a dog. You’re trained, but you’ve got no clue what’s really going on. Or… like you just have these feelings with no concept of why- you’re just instinct and psychosis and I can’t fucking  _ deal  _ with that!” He grabbed a pillow and threw it as hard as he could at the window. “You’re not the same person and I  _ miss  _ you, and you really really look like Scorpius, but you’re  _ not!” _ Albus stared down at the blank expression on the face of what used to be Scorpius Malfoy. “Why didn’t you just fucking die? If you were dead, I could have grieved and moved on. But I can’t, because you’re sitting before me and it’s too hard to believe you’re any different when you look exactly the same. I can’t conceive of you, and you can’t conceive of me. We’re looking at each other from two different sides of a curtain, and we’re never going to be together again.” Anger boiled his blood, and at that moment he wanted nothing more than to kill the inferius lying next to him. Madness consumed his soul, and one goal sent his mind into a pinpoint of focus.  _ Do it. Trigger another seizure.  _ “How the hell are you supposed to do traditional, Scorpius? You can’t. You can’t do traditional anymore. How are you going to impregnate some girl when you can’t even figure out who she is? The Malfoys die with you. You’re the last one. How does that feel? You can feel it, can’t you? You understand emotion. That’s all you understand. You’re the last Malfoy and you can’t be traditional anymore.” He was breathing heavily. He couldn’t meet Scorpius’ eyes. He didn’t want to watch when his brain erupted again into electricity and necrosis. There was no sound, but of course there wasn’t. Scorpius didn’t make sound. Albus looked away, watching the door to the bathroom where Rozrod was detoxing. Would he feel it when Scorpius’ brain finally stopped?

There was a loud bang, and suddenly Mr. Malfoy was standing in the doorway with a look that could turn flesh to stone. When he spoke his voice was soft, though it seemed to shake every molecule in the room. “Step away.”

Albus obeyed before he realized what he was doing. His heart leapt into his mouth.

Mr. Malfoy strode silently to the bed, gazing down at Scorpius who, to Albus’ surprise, sat up. Mr. Malfoy stared at Albus with an expression as blank as his son’s. “You know nothing. You’re as ignorant and self-absorbed as your father.”

Albus closed in on himself. He’d forgotten… He’d forgotten other people cared about Scorpius too.

Mr. Malfoy took Scorpius’ hands, looking at him seriously. “You understand what you have to do. You understand the consequences. It’s why you want to go to China, isn’t it? It’s why we’ll end up in Estonia. You’ve known for a long time.” He smiled proudly. “You have us all in your hands. Through kindness, you manage to do what no dictator nor charismatic psychopath has ever been able to do. You control hearts, not minds. You never have to ask, and people fall to your feet.” He looked at Albus, giving him one silent nod. “You’ll do it too, and willingly. Because even as he is now, he’s so much smarter and wiser than any of us. I heard everything you said to him, and yet he sits here unharmed and unoffended. Why is that?”

Albus shook his head. He didn’t know.

“Everything so far has gone his way. He knew he didn’t have much time, so he figured out what to do. He went to the library and studied. He went to the garden and blocked everything in his mind that could kill him sooner. I believe it’s the reason he’s alive now. I would guess he came to Poland for the Roma  Marimé and Drabarni. Where did he say you’ll go next?” Mr. Malfoy was smiling lightly.

Albus tried to remember. “I think… Ukraine?”

Mr. Malfoy’s smile broadened. “The Black Sea. The dead beneath the water. Countless stories of inferi in the Black Sea abound. It’s also said to be the place Noah’s ark landed. Although of course that’s just an allegory, it’s the birthplace of life, and the resting place of death. The home of something in between.”

Albus was dumbfounded. He’d been along for the ride the whole time while Scorpius followed a strict plan. “Oh,” he said lamely, looking at Scorpius who was smiling smugly at him. So it was true, then. Their journey was only beginning, and it would be Scorpius who pulled them along.

“Is it time, then? When? The future is uncertain, are you ready?” Questions. All questions. Ones even Albus didn’t understand.

Unexpectedly, inspiringly, Scorpius responded. He nodded slowly, looking terrified.

The back of Albus’ knees hit Rozrod’s bed, and he fell to a seat.

“Now or later?”

Scorpius stared blankly.

Mr. Malfoy tried again. “Now?”

Scorpius nodded urgently, and Albus noticed his legs contracting rhythmically.

“Today?”

Scorpius shut his eyes, pain flashing across his features.

Mr. Malfoy turned his eyes to Albus, coldness warming over slightly. “Would you? To save his life. Would you marry him?”

The world fell out below Albus, and his stomach dropped to oblivion. For an eternity in a single second, Albus hit terminal velocity. Had… Had Draco Malfoy just proposed to him on behalf of his son? Why?  _ Why?  _ “Why?”

“He’s female.”

_...What?! _ Yeah, Scorpius had said something like that, but how could it be relevant? Unless… “Can we have a baby?”

Both Scorpius and Mr. Malfoy nodded.

Albus sat, shocked into silence. Shocked into numbness. No thoughts, no images, no feelings passed through his head. It was as if he didn’t exist. That was… A horrifying thought. Slowly, and without his consent, a smile slid across Albus’ face. He doubled over and laughed uncontrollably, side-splitting, mirthless laughter. What had his life come to? Blindly chasing his epileptic, practically brain-dead best friend halfway around the world, becoming homeless in Poland before picking up a junkie interpreter, adopting  _ Draco Malfoy  _ as a father figure, and marrying into a Pureblood lifestyle in order to impregnate a female man to save his life. It was funny, right? It was farcically, objectively funny. A Shakespearean, comedic tragedy of errors.

Albus gasped, wiping his eyes on his shirt. “Yeah, fuck it. I guess I would.”

Mr. Malfoy nodded solemnly. “Call your father, then.”

Albus gaped, “What,  _ now?” _

“I’m sorry, does this not give you time to put together the mind-map dream of a wedding you’ve been planning since you were a young girl?”

Okay. That stung a little. “Wouldn’t… Wouldn’t it kill him? Like his mom?” Albus still couldn’t quite believe what was going on.

“Probably, but assuming he survives childbirth like he’s clearly trying to, it wouldn’t kill him for thirteen years.” Mr. Malfoy’s expression was still impassive.

Thirty. Scorpius could make it to thirty. If that wasn’t a happy thought, Albus didn’t know what was.  _ “Expecto Patronum!”  _ He stared blankly at the waiting scorpion for a long time. When he finally found his voice, he stuttered awkwardly. “Er, well… Dad? Could you- can you… Okay, so I’m getting married. Like… right now. Don’t worry about it. Don’t think about it. But… I guess you have to be here, so… Can you come to Poland? We’re… we’re in this hotel, and the Malfoys are here… well, because Scorpius obviously- Ah, neveryoumind, I’ll explain when you get here. To Poland. At Hotel Fado in Gorzow Poland… oh, I guess you know the city. Room 213, so… Er- right now, I guess? Sorry. Thanks. Sorry.” He waved the patronus away, and sat with his head in his hands, unable to face the world. His ears were burning with embarrassment, and his stomach turned at the thought of his dad being there to see it. Knowing what they were going to do.

A moment later, there was a loud snap and Harry and Ginny Potter stood in the room, looking confused beyond belief.

Harry and Draco stared at each other in silence. Draco gestured helplessly, and Harry gave a belabored sigh.

“Why-” his voice was strangled. “Malfoy-”

“Don’t ask.” Draco shook his head, a near smile playing across his lips. “Never thought it would come to this.”

“I should have left you in that fire.”

“I should have given your name at the Manor.”

They broke eye contact.

“Well, damn it. I guess this is happening.” Harry tossed his hands in the air and turned to Ginny for help.

She had her hand over her mouth to hide her amusement. “Sorry, I just… I  _ did  _ think it would come to this.” She pulled Albus off the bed and into a hug. “Just not so soon.”

Harry hadn’t looked at Albus at all. “Why… Really?”

“Oi, it wasn’t my idea!” Albus scowled at him. “Let’s make this easy. Just accept it and don’t make me explain. Get it over with, and we can move on with our lives.”

“I don’t want to know the reason anyway.” Harry finally looked at his son, exasperation dripping off of him.

The bathroom door slammed open and Rozrod appeared, freshly showered, in a cloud of steam. “I hate you all so much. Let’s do this.”

Harry and Ginny looked at him in surprise.

Albus gestured vaguely. “Rozrod Grindelwald.”

Harry nodded slowly. “Of course. Of course. That  _ would  _ be the next logical step, wouldn’t it? Anything else you want to tell me?”

“Scorpius is a girl.”

Harry shut his eyes, trying to come to terms with everything. “Perfectly normal. All of this is perfectly normal. What a great job you’ve done here.”

“Love you too, dad,” Albus quipped.

“Can we just do this now?” Rozrod pleaded. “Before I pass out?”

Harry held up his hands in disbelief, looking to Albus for explanation.

“Heroin withdrawal.”

“Right.”

Albus and Scorpius clasped their arms together, holding each other near the elbow. Harry and Draco drew their wands, touching them to their sons’ entwined arms.

Draco spoke, “I give this, my flesh and blood, to Albus Severus Potter and to the Potter family, that we may be joined forever by his lot.”

Harry opened his mouth silently, then spoke the words as if in a haze. “I accept this lot, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, in the name of my son Albus Severus Potter, that the Malfoy family may become intertwined with ours.”

Albus’ heart pounded frantically. “I consent, and accept… her? As my own.”

Scorpius stared down at their clasped hands and raised his eyebrows in amusement.

Ginny and Harry’s heads turned sharply when Rozrod spoke. “I acknowledge that I am given.”

Giving each other one last look of utter disbelief, Harry and Draco cast the spell, two golden ropes of light spinning in a double helix around Scorpius and Albus’ arms. Albus gasped. It was as if his mind expanded to consume Scorpius’. In one profound moment, he saw through Scorpius’ eyes.

The world spun and wobbled in dimensions Albus didn’t know existed. Simplexes and hypercubes, all surrounded by mathematical formulas, danced before his eyes. He couldn’t speak. His words were gone. Try as he might, he couldn’t recall a single one. Like having a word stuck at the tip of your tongue, but all of them at once. He saw the world as if he were standing below it, and couldn’t quite reach. All he understood was fear and confusion and the sound of everyone in the room crying out simultaneously.

“Dad, I love you so much. I want to say hello before I say goodbye again. So… Hello. It’s good to see you.”

It was Scorpius’ voice. Albus could hear Scorpius’ voice.

“Albus, thank you. I can’t begin to say how grateful I am towards you. Though this happened under compulsory circumstances, I’m still overjoyed I get to spend my life with you.”

Grief hit Albus from every direction and one more. He wanted to respond, but he couldn’t. An empty concept hit his brain and frustration tinged every aspect of his being.

Rozrod’s voice spoke out. “I love you. I’m so sorry. I love you.”

Yes, that was it. That’s what he wanted to say.

Then, suddenly, it was gone. Albus let go of Scorpius’ arm, and looked into his eyes with painful sympathy. Finally, they understood each other.

Rozrod moaned and dashed back into the bathroom, leaving the new family alone. Nobody really noticed. They were so busy sitting in the significance of the situation.

Harry blinked, his eyes darting between Albus and Scorpius. His eyes glazed over. “Scorpius Malfoy is my son-in-law.”

“Potter, actually.” Draco coughed, looking away. “He’s yours now.”

Harry cringed. “Does he really have to-”

“Yes,” Draco and Albus interrupted.

“Otherwise this was all for nothing,” Albus attempted to explain. “Tradition. It’s all about tradition.”

“That explains the very old-fashioned vows.” He frowned. “But that means there isn’t a Malfoy heir. Isn’t that tradition?”

Draco shrugged. “That’s my problem. Not his.” He shook his head, staring up at the ceiling. “I could always make more if I wanted to.”

Harry nodded slowly. “Make more…”

There was a long moment of silence. Eventually, Ginny broke it by pulling the two boys into her arms, tears in her eyes. “My son is married!”

Albus grimaced. “Mum…”

Harry’s shoulders relaxed and he turned to Draco, giving up. “Wanna go get a drink?”

“I need it.” For a moment, they commiserated, then walked out of the room.

Ginny gave one last tearful smile to the boys, and trotted after their fathers.

After Albus was sure they had left, he took Scorpius’ hand. “Okay, let’s make a baby.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'VE BEEN PLANNING THIS FOR SO LONG


	15. What They Grow To Be

Albus and Scorpius were staring at each other, wide eyed and terrified. Whether Scorpius knew how to do… this… was unknown, and Albus couldn’t ask him anyway, nor could Scorpius explain. Albus knew the mechanics of sex, but in this situation…

“Oi, Grindelwald!”

“No!” Rozrod shouted before retching dryly. “I’m not getting involved with this!”

“You’re gonna hear it in our heads anyway!” Albus countered.

“This is where I draw the line, Potter! I’m not interpreting your weird post-marital attempt at conception!” He groaned and coughed.

“What am I supposed to do, then?” Albus thought a string of curse words at him.

“I don’t fucking know! Fuck him in the fucking mouth or something! Fuck!”

Albus laughed. He was still in a blaze of confusion and adrenaline. “This is the weirdest night of my life…” He shouted at the door, “I liked you better on heroin!”

“Me too!” He let out a strangled sob.

Albus felt kinda bad for him. He looked back to Scorpius, shaking his head. “I don’t know what to do. How… How is this physically possible?”

Scorpius looked like he wanted to say something.

Albus scowled at the bathroom door. “What’s he saying?”

“Nothing! He doesn’t say dick, ever! That’s the only reason your arsehole family picked me up off the street!”

Well… he wasn’t wrong. “Tell me what he’s thinking, you absolute-”

“Some Greek bullshit about Zeus and Athena, leave me a-fucking-lone I’m trying not to die in here!” There was the sound of something heavy hitting something solid. “Oww…” He sighed. “His brain’s a pretty fucked up womb, but maybe there’ll be more room since half of it’s fried.”

Oh… Alright, that made sense. Kinda. Not really. “So, er…” He gestured vaguely at Scorpius’ midsection. “You don’t have…?”

Scorpius looked annoyed.

“Just…” Albus shut his eyes, embarrassed and disturbed beyond reason. “I guess just show me. I’ll go with it.”

Scorpius pressed his lips together and took a deep breath. He glanced at the door to the bathroom, and Rozrod cried out in frustration.

“Can we just accept that it’s magic and move on from here? I really don’t want to tell that awful story with all it’s bizarre and violent sexual implications.”

Albus knew the story. He’d studied Greek Mythology plenty, and those stories were read to Wizarding children at bedtime every night. Athena was born from Zeus’ forehead after he swallowed her mother. Athena had then burst, fully grown, from her father’s head after Hephaestus broke his skull open. Seemed unpleasant.

“Yeah, but it’s not entirely true, is it?” Rozrod spoke up, despite his obvious contempt. “It’s an allegory. Although… I guess the swallowing part is vaguely accurate.” Albus heard him vomit into the toilet, and agreed with the sentiment.

Scorpius gave a forced, helpless smile and shrugged.

“Oh, I get it.”

Again, they stared at each other hesitantly, contemplating what they were about to do. Albus looked one more time towards the bathroom door and muttered the words Rozrod had said minutes before. “Fuck him in the fucking mouth or something…”

“Wasn’t being facetious,” Rozrod snapped. “I  _ am  _ trying to help.”

Scorpius shook his head, staring at the floor. He apparently built up enough confidence, because he took Albus’ hands and pulled him back into bed.

“Oh, wow,” Albus said dully.

Scorpius pulled himself over Albus’ lap and sat facing him, eyelids cast low and heavy. He leaned in and pressed their lips together softly, a gesture of go-ahead.

Albus nodded, and slid his hands under Scorpius’ shirt, pulling it off over his head. He still couldn’t believe what was happening. He felt like he could wake up any moment in his four-poster Slytherin bed, scowling at the sunlight as he quickly and shamefully got off to thoughts of his friend, who was lying in the next bed over.

Scorpius’ physical ability had improved significantly. Handwriting was still impossible, but that was due more to the fact that he couldn’t think of anything to write. He could pretty much pick up his wand, but the complicated movements associated with spells were only possible if nobody talked to him, and he couldn’t speak the incantations so he’d only managed to somewhat perform a couple basic charms nonverbally. He was mostly feeding himself fine, although if he got too distracted by something in his own mind then he’d pretty much shut down completely and drop whatever he was holding in order to stare off into space. Albus tried his best not to see those moments. It was sickening to see physical evidence of whatever was wrong with Scorpius’ brain. He wanted him to be normal. Silent, but normal. It had been an exercise in compassion, looking into Scorpius’ mind. The horror that went on in there… Albus was impressed he managed to do as much as he did. Still, being this intimate with someone who could barely think straight was a difficult thing to rationalize ethically.

While Albus continued to twist his mind around morals versus necessity, Scorpius didn’t seem to care. He unzipped both of their trousers and kicked them off the bed. It was Albus who was struggling to see the situation. He was so caught up in his own mind, he didn’t even notice what was going on until-

Ultrasonic vibrations built up Albus’ spine, and he opened his mouth in a silent scream of shock and excitement. Colours danced in front of his eyes with no real meaning.

_ Green, oh the wall, the hotel, right. _

_ Down- oh wow, what? Blond and incredible heat. _

_ Scorpius- _

_ What the hell are we doing? This is wrong, right? _

_ Ngh, wrong, this is so so right. _

_ How is he possibly good at this? _

_ OH WOW! He’s really really good at this. _

_ How? _

_ Jealousy! _

_ Shut up, Albus. _

_ Improvement. Real improvement. _

_ Myelin sheaths? _

_ Oh, nevermind, that’s... _

_ Ah! Mm.. didn’t think that was a thing. _

_ Remember that for later. _

_ Fuck the life back into him. _

_ I wanna stick my cock into his brain and scramble it back to normal. _

_ Push him down further. _

_ Don’t grab him, that’s rude. _

_ And dangerous. _

_ Maybe if he chokes he’ll be shocked enough to talk. _

_ Force him to make any sort of sound. Make him gag. _

_ Why can’t he laugh? _

_ Not important now. _

_ Did he break his voicebox? _

_ Break his voicebox, fuck his throat. _

_ Grindelwald, I know you’re listening. _

_ Can you feel it? Can you feel this incredible high? _

_ Get out of my brain, leave me alone. _

_ Or watch, fuck it. Watch me tear him to shreds. _

“Leave me out of this!”

_ Let him do it, don’t force it. _

_ I want to punch a hole through the back of his head. _

_ Let him do it, you’ll hurt him. _

_ Grab his hair and push his skull to your stomach. _

_ Merlin, what’s that?! _

_ Do more of that. _

_ Fuck, I’m climbing. _

_ Turn it off, I want this forever. _

_ No, it’s so good. Go with it. Cum down his throat. _

_ Suppress yourself. _

_ I wanna coat the inside of his stomach. _

_ After this, I’m gonna fuck him so hard we’ll have to resuscitate him again. _

_ I’m so close I can’t believe I’m not there.  _

_ Yeah, I’m gonna cum now. _

_ Shit, right now. _

Albus cried out wordlessly, unable to turn his voice off. Scorpius pulled away, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and grinning. He raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“Yeah,” Albus replied, not entirely sure of the question, but sure of the answer. “Erm… I’m really glad that happened.” Scorpius grinned wider. Albus smiled back, and pulled him forward to return the favor.

Later, the sound of their parents returning shot enough adrenaline through their systems to make them dress themselves faster than they probably ever had before.

Slurred speech echoed through the doorway, and Rozrod walked out of the bathroom, looking like he’d just been caught in a tornado. “Where’s your mum?”

Albus shrugged, and Scorpius’ lips parted slightly, a confused look on his face.

Rozrod rolled his eyes at Scorpius. “Not yours. His.”

“I dunno. She’s not out there?” Albus pointed at the door.

“Would I have asked?”

“Testy.”

“So don’t test me.”

“Kidss…” The familiar sound of Harry’s drunken voice was their only warning before the door slammed open. He stared blankly at Rozrod, who sighed.

“Grindelwald. Remember? I was just here for the thing?”

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “Was...Were you... always there, then?” Understanding rolled lazily across his face. “Wait, Grinse… Grindevald? Like the guy?”

Albus got up out of bed, annoyed, and put a hand on his father’s chest, shoving him out of the room. “Dad, you’re drunk. Go home.”

“No, s’okay.” Harry clapped a hand on Albus’ shoulder. “‘Cause this’s fine, and errything’s kay…” He pulled Albus into a tight and awkward hug. “‘Cause yer great, and is all gonna be fine, okay? Malfoy essplained the stuff.”

Albus pulled away. “Stop it. Go home. Where’s Mum? Go home.”

Harry waved his hand, “She’s home with Al ‘n Lily, iss all fine.” He squinted at Rozrod. “I had all the things.”

“Mhm,” Rozrod responded, annoyed.

“Did  _ your  _ dad have all the things?”

“He’s my grandfather, and no. Obviously not.”

Harry pointed at him. “Dummeldore was soo frickin’ gay for your dad.”

“Mhm. Grandfather.”

“An’ I named my son after ‘im, and now he’s gay too.”

Albus scowled. “I need you to fuck right off and go home.” He bodily shoved his dad from the room and guided him to sit on the couch next to Mr. Malfoy, who sat in dour silence. “Are you sober enough to take him home by side-along?”

Mr. Malfoy stared for a long while before the question seemed to register with him. He shook his head.

“Wonderful. Great. This is what I need, I’m gonna have to take him home and deal with my whole family.” Albus pressed his palms into his temples as a headache built. “‘Cause apparently Mum is home with Albus and Lily.”

Harry looked like a child who’d been promised sweets only to have them taken away. “Nah, ‘m gunna go ‘t China.”

“You most certainly are  _ not!” _ He looked to Mr. Malfoy for help, but he only shrugged. “You seriously want to take my dad along with us?”

Mr. Malfoy shrugged again.

“It’s not happening. It’s not.” He couldn’t even imagine his dad joining their small group. “Scorpius! Come put your dad to bed, I gotta take mine home.”

Scorpius shuffled into the room, grabbed his dad by the arms, and pulled him off the couch.

“Way-wuh-wait.” Harry pulled Draco back on the couch. “Take off your shirt.”

Albus and Scorpius gaped at him.

Harry waved his hands. “No, not like that, it’s cool. Grinnelval, come in here.”

Rozrod stalked warily through the doorframe.

“We’re gunna do a reunion. ‘Kay? I wanna see errything together, an’ it’s gonna be like… closure. ‘Sokay, Al, it’s kumbaya.”

Albus hid his face in his hands, understanding. “This is really inappropriate.”

Rozrod just shrugged. “Yeah, okay. Whatever.”

Albus shot him a skeptical look. “Seriously?”

“I mean… I get it.” He gestured between Harry and Draco. “Their lives were so wrapped up in these symbols, it pretty much defined who they were.” He sighed. “Also, look at them. I know you can’t see their thoughts, but… Come on. Look how sad that is.” Rozrod took a seat on the coffee table across from the couch, and pulled off his shirt.

Harry and Draco stared at the Deathly Hallows symbol with the same expression. Albus didn’t know what it was, but they looked like they were finally on the same page. Draco nodded, and pulled back his left sleeve. All three of them stared at each other, looking like newly freed prisoners of war.

With a sudden jolt of understanding, Albus realized that’s exactly what they were.

“This’s like… a metaphor.” Harry blinked emotionally, his lower lip trembling. “For something.”

Rozrod looked up at Albus. “None of us chose to be marked this way.” He touched the symbol that lay just over his heart. Albus had almost forgotten it was there.

Albus was struggling not to say something sarcastic or hilarious, though he had a thousand biting remarks perched on the tip of his tongue. It was so weird to watch. Also, he realized, he had no idea where Rozrod had gotten that tattoo. He’d just kind of assumed… well, nothing. He didn’t really think about Rozrod that much. Seemed strange that he hadn’t asked. What happened in the generational gap between him and Gellert Grindelwald? Where were his parents? How… everything about him? Why had Albus never asked? For months, he’d sat in silence across from Rozrod at a cafe, never bothering to say a word to him. Why was that? He’d never even asked his name.

Rozrod was staring at Albus as he thought. “Nobody ever thinks about me. This mind reading thing goes one way. Nobody ever asks what’s in my head.”

Albus’ throat closed with guilt and sadness. He realized that even though the questions were posed in his mind, he still wouldn’t ask them. He couldn’t. He couldn’t find a reason to.

“Nobody cares about you,” Harry said bluntly.

“I know.”

Uninvited, Harry reached out and touched the symbol. “Didn’t mean it as an insult. Meant it as a fact.”

“I know.”

“Takes love like Albus Dumbledore to care about Grindelwald.” His voice was clearer when he spoke. “Most of us aren’t capable of that.”

Albus’ jaw was slack, and his mind was reeling. He’d done the same thing, he recalled. He’d reached out to touch, but he never asked. He never asked anything. Their whole little family- they’d only ever cared about him insofar as he was useful to Scorpius. Did the whole world really treat him that way?

Rozrod was still staring at him. “Yeah.”

Draco spoke for the first time. “And so, Gellert Grindelwald was a psychopath.”

They sat in silence, considering that. The room felt empty, void of sound to the point their ears popped. Scorpius was the first one to move. Navigating silence was something he did well. He sat down on the coffee table next to Rozrod and wrapped his arms around him, resting his head on his shoulder. Albus had hugged him too, once. Back in the shack. What had Rozrod said?  _ Nobody’s ever done that to me before. _ So that wasn’t hyperbole. Albus swallowed roughly. Rozrod had every right to be angry. He had every right to hate the world and everyone in it. But instead, he was kind. That was an incredible feat.

“Yeah, well… That’s the curse. You live with it. Scorpius understands, see?” He nodded to the fragile boy who was still wrapped around him, and placed an arm around his back. “You wondered where my parents are, Albus? They’re nowhere. I’m the product of rape and abduction. My father impregnated my mother, then took me from her the day I was born. He marked me with this symbol to show the world who I am, and managed to keep me around until he died when I was eleven, just barely in Durmstrang. Did you ever wonder why I never draw my wand? I don’t have one. I went to school, but nobody bothered to check if I ever did anything. I never did. I was truant almost always, and nobody ever noticed.” He sighed, pulling Scorpius closer. “I like you a lot, Albus Potter. I really do. Telling you all this... I don’t mean to offend you, or imply that you’ve been anything less than wonderful to me. This is the closest I’ve ever been to anyone, and this is the kindest anyone’s ever been to me. I love your family. Even if I’m only Scorpius’ voice, it’s amazing to me that you’ve taken me in.” He gave Scorpius a watery smile. “Thanks, mate, for lending me your voice.”

Everyone stared at him in stunned silence, considering the implications of all he had just said.

“Thas’ really jus’ a fuckin’ bummer story, Grinnelval,” Harry piped up.

“Tactful as ever, Potter,” Draco quipped.

“No, I’m for real,” Harry said defensively. “Thas’ depressing, I’m depressed now.” He sighed, eyelids drooping. “I’m gonna jus’ crash here, mkay?” He leaned over to lie his head on Draco’s shoulder.

Draco looked offended, and looked to Albus for help. “He’s touching me.”

Albus shrugged. “That’s not my problem.  _ You _ two went out and got this drunk.” He looked at his dad with exasperation. “Plus, I thought you guys were gonna be friends now.”

Draco looked at Harry in disgust. “He’s touching me, though.”

Harry blinked, and reached over to touch the Dark Mark on Draco’s arm. “Wow, mate. Heavy.” He traced his fingers around the figure eight of the snake. “You know- because there was eight soul bits, yeah? And I’m was one.”

Draco looked more offended. “He’s awake and touching me.”

“‘Cause I never touched one buhfore!” He raised his eyes to meet Draco’s. “An’ I killed the guy, an’ I wish these would’ve gone, but they didn’t, huh? An’ you- you were sixteen, yeah? An’ you know I followed you ‘round the whole school, an’ I still never saw this ‘ntil few years ago. ‘N I really really wanted to, ‘cause no one believed me. An’ then ‘mione thought that… no a lot a people said that maybe you got bit by a werewolf, right? And thas’ for why we… and thas’ what you showed to Dumbledore that night, right? 'Cause when Snape killed Dumbledore?” He pointed at Albus. “Like… why in the hell would I name him that? ‘N nobody had any actual proof you got marked ‘ntil recently, right?” He looked like he expected an answer. “Right?”

Draco stared blankly. “You thought I was a werewolf?”

“No! Other people. Nobody believed me, I said you were a Death Eater. They said you were too young.”

Draco nodded. “I was too young.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “Yeah, wow. You were. I was. We were. Shit, man.”

“I am a Death Eater, though.”

“You were.”

Looking defeated, Draco reached out to touch Harry’s scar.

Albus looked over at Scorpius to commiserate.  _ Oh, right.  _ He’d already forgotten about Rozrod. Scorpius was still wrapped around him, and the two seemed to be having a silent conversation with their eyes closed. It was a beautifully intimate moment, and Albus had already forgotten about it. Two intimate moments were happening in front of him, and Albus felt a bit intrusive.

Rozrod opened his eyes, nodding to Albus. “You can have him back.”

Albus shook his head. “No, I’m just… This is all a little weird for me, I’m just gonna go get ready for bed.” He backed out of the room slowly, wondering if this was all some very strange dream. He turned around, leaving the Voldemort-marked dads to pass out on the couch, and the cursed children to bond over sadness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's platonic, you guys.
> 
>  
> 
> Lol, can you imagine? If I said that? XD
> 
> You know the whole reason we got Scorbus is because of the Drarry shippers, and Thorne was like- yeah, we want those people. Those are the money people. So... respect to Drarry shippers, and disrespect to Thorne.


	16. Numbing the Pain

The Black Sea rippled in a way that almost seemed temporally warped. Like maybe time was slowing down just so the waves could lazily travel up to the shores. Albus stood back, watching as Scorpius approached the water, arms outstretched. He gave one last look over his shoulder before stepping into the water. It must have been freezing. Ukraine was already a frozen, irradiated, war-torn, shit storm; it sucked that it was also freezing as hell was hot. Scorpius’ lips were instantly blue, and he gasped.

Wait.

Did he just make sound?

Albus, Rozrod, and Mr. Malfoy all ran forward, calling out various words of encouragement.

Scorpius was shaking, his eyes shut tight against the hypothermia. A wave struck his back, and he cried out in pain as he fell to his knees.

“Can he say anything?” Albus grabbed Rozrod’s sleeve desperately.

“Er, well… I don’t think so.” He was frowning at Scorpius. “He’s just kinda… hurt.”

“No shit, he’s freezing.” Another wave washed over Scorpius’ head, and Albus dashed forwards, barely feeling the cold as he pulled his friend from the water. “You okay?”

Scorpius’ eyes were pinwheels, staring fixedly into Albus’.

“Can you talk?”

No response. A wave crashed over them both, and they cried out together. Scorpius pulled Albus to his chest, clinging onto him like a drowning child.

He felt hot. Burning hot. It hurt to touch him. “Ah- you gotta… Ow! You gotta let go.”

Scorpius buried his face against Albus’ neck, clinging tighter.

“Ngh- mate, this really really hurts.”

“Get out!” Mr. Malfoy called to them. “Get out now!”

Albus could barely hear him over the ringing in his ears. He couldn’t really respond, either. His muscles felt stiff, and he wondered if his blood could crystalize. He did see, however, a look of comprehension pass over Scorpius’ face.

He grabbed Albus by the shoulder and pointed out to the water.

“No way. No way, you’re getting out now.” Albus grabbed his wrist.

Scorpius pulled away, face crumpling in concentration. Slowly, stiffly, he managed to draw a line in the air, then point down.

Hypothermia instantly forgotten, Albus encouraged it. “Yeah, great! Come on, show me more. What are you saying?”

Scorpius’ eyelids were drooping.

“Come on, you can do it.”

“Get out now!” Mr. Malfoy was screaming at them.

“Wait!” Albus held up a hand as he called back.

Scorpius looked blearily out over the waves, and pointed straight out, then quickly down.

Albus’ stomach dropped when he understood. “We’re not swimming down there.”

Scorpius tried to meet Albus’ eyes, but slid out of focus. He opened his mouth like he wanted to speak, then shook his head and dropped under the water.

Albus reached down, trying to grab him, but his fingers were too stiff with cold to get a good grip. Scorpius slipped away and disappeared into the icy sea.

“What happened?!” Mr. Malfoy shouted at him.

“I don’t know!” Albus shouted back. “I’m gonna get him.” He scanned the water, waiting for a sign of location. He’d have to breathe, right? He couldn’t cast any spell useful enough to help him breathe underwater. When he did appear, he was way farther out than Albus would have expected. He managed to make eye contact before Scorpius once again disappeared under the dark waves.

“Damnit!” Albus cursed, realizing there was no way to catch him. Giving up on the idea of swimming after him, and hoping for the best, he climbed out of the water and onto the shore. The world was too hot, and it spun before his eyes. Before he knew what was happening, there were rocks in front of his face, and everything went dark.

For a long time, there was nothing. Not even a name that Albus could pin to himself. Everything was falling at terminal velocity, and everything inside him was empty. If he’d been able to think, Albus would have thought he was just a shell of frozen skin expanding outward into deep space.

Then, suddenly, there was something. There was warmth. For an eternity, there was simple warmth. Then, in the next eternity, there was pain. His skin was shattering like ice struck by a hammer, and his eyes were frozen shut. Did he even have eyes? Had he ever? The sensation of touch grew on him and he realized there was more to the world than himself. There was something else. There was  _ someone  _ else. Albus clung to the sensation, terrified it would go away. He hummed, and the vibrations in his chest brought sound back into his world. After that, everything came crashing into place, puzzle pieces falling together by the sure chance of infinite time that Albus was convinced was occurring. He was rocking back and forth, arms wrapped tightly around Scorpius, who was there. He was alive. He was limp in Albus’ lap, over his shoulder, supported by the tight embrace of a blanket. Where were they?

“A hotel. We carried you both back, Potters. Are you okay?” Rozrod lay a burning hot hand on Albus’ back.

Albus let out a strangled sound of pain, and Rozrod pulled away.

Albus looked around, realizing he was wrapped so tightly in a blanket that he couldn’t move. “Are you awake?” He looked over at Scorpius, who blinked his eyes open.

“Mhm.”

Albus’ heart stopped.  “Merlin, did you just-”

“Yeah, but that’s about all he can do,” Rozrod interjected.

“Still! Wow!” Albus grinned widely. “So... how come…?”

Rozrod tilted his head back and forth non-committally. “My guess is that… maybe you could reteach language? A bit? I’m not sure. His thoughts are much more clear, but they’re still purely conceptual.”

“We’ll teach him, then,” Albus declared firmly.

“Well, it’s not so simple.” Rozrod was twisting his fingers together uncomfortably. “His thoughts… I’ve seen this before. It’s like… Do you know what happens when you fail to teach a child a language before they’re seven? Any language? A child of normal intelligence?”

Albus shook his head.

“They never fully learn. Ever. They can kinda explain the present, and they can vaguely recall the past, but… Again, complex questions are next to impossible, and they certainly won’t ask any questions themselves.” Rozrod shifted his weight. “It’s really sad.”

Albus frowned. “What intelligent kid doesn’t learn a language?”

“A deaf kid.”

“Oh… Yeah, I guess that makes sense.” Albus struggled to pull himself out of the blanket. “But... he did just answer me.”

“Yeah, a yes or no question. He’s been able to do that sometimes recently.” Rozrod reached over to help remove the blanket cocoon. Once freed, Scorpius wrapped his arms around Albus and sighed. It was amazing to hear. That was his voice. The last time Albus had heard his voice was in the brief moment their minds connected back during the-

_ Merlin and Morgan, I’m married. _

“Did that just now hit you?” Rozrod laughed.

_ It’s weird, right? Feels kinda wrong. _

“Well, it wasn’t exactly a normal reason, was it?”

_ Oh, wow. He might be… _

“Pregnant?”

_ Don’t say it like that! _

Mr. Malfoy coughed. “I assume you’re having a conversation I’m not supposed to hear.”

“Eh, I guess just…” Albus gestured helplessly.  _ Just having a hard time saying it out loud. _

“Well, I’ll leave you alone.” Mr. Malfoy strode out of the room.

_ I wonder… can you tell? _

“What, if you two managed to fill his brain with your-?”

_ Don’t say it. _

“Baby juice.”

_ Ugh. _

“See, the problem here is that he doesn’t have a menstrual cycle, so… Not exactly sure how you’d be able to, er… increase your chances.”

_ I hate this. I’ve never even said we were- _

“Boyfriends?”

_ More than friends. _

“Albus Potter, wow. You can’t even think it.”

_ And now we’re… _

“Married. You should probably get used to it.”

_ I kinda don’t want to.  _ He rubbed his eyes as a headache built. “I don’t like this.”

“Too bad.” Rozrod crossed his arms. “This was your decision. You have to live with it.”

“Well, what was I supposed to do?!” Albus snarled. “Look at him!”

Scorpius pulled away, deep hurt in his eyes.

“You don’t like me anymore?” Rozrod gestured at Scorpius to indicate he was interpreting. He put his hand on his own chest to speak for himself. “What the hell?!”

“No, it’s not-”

“Yes, it is.” Rozrod said for Scorpius. “You fell in love with some other person, and I’m not him anymore.”

“But…” Albus was at a loss for words. “We’re going to China. You’ll come back.”

“The chances of that are slim to none,” Scorpius shook his head, looking away. “I could improve. I’ll never be the same.”

Albus wanted to cry. “I… I do like you. I do.”

Rozrod shook his head. He could see the truth in Albus’ mind.

_ If he doesn’t come back, our tie will fade. _

“But you don’t love me like you loved him,” Scorpius nodded, understanding. “I see the hope in your eyes every time I do something new. It makes me sad. Because I know I’ll disappoint you. I will.”

Shame drained the color from Albus’ face. He felt empty. “I… I still do…”  _ love you. _

Rozrod looked away.

“I… I want to make things better,” Albus forced himself to look Scorpius in the eyes. “How… I don’t know how, but… I think we can make things better. Can’t we?”

Scorpius shut down, his comprehension ending.

Albus looked up to Rozrod urgently. “What’s he thinking?”

Rozrod opened his mouth silently. He shook his head. “Nothing.”

 

*******

 

Over the course of the next few days, they made their way to Russia. Scorpius was mute the entire time. Wool pulled from his eyes, Albus was able to see the imperfections.

His hands shook when he held a fork. He stumbled when he walked, and frequently took his father’s hand to steady himself. He seemed to be unable to make choices for himself; Albus saw him staring for a long time at his rucksack, trying to pick out a shirt. Again, he relied on Mr. Malfoy to help him out. His father was doing much more for him than Albus had realized. Plus, with his voice back, Albus was noticing more strange things. He laughed at inappropriate times, seemingly unprovoked.

Albus also realized he couldn’t read. He hadn’t noticed that before. It hit him as they sat at a cafe, ordering breakfast. Scorpius’ eyes glazed over when handed a menu. His father, not Rozrod, ordered for him. He wasn’t making the choices. Plus, Albus realized, he hadn’t picked up a book in months. That should have been a huge red flag.

Had Albus really been so blinded?

_ Yes. I have been. _

Since he had regained his voice, Albus had seen much less of him. He had assumed it was because of what he said when they sat bound together by blankets, shaking with hypothermia. Only when walking into the common room of their hotel suite did he happen see the truth.

Scorpius was holding his head, rocking back and forth. Mr. Malfoy had his hands on Scorpius’ shoulders and was speaking slowly to him. One word at a time. Mr. Malfoy gestured Albus in, and he walked to sit on a chair warily, watching the scene before him.

“Can you say hello?” Mr. Malfoy repeated the word several times, slowly and clearly.

Scorpius opened his mouth to try, but shook his head and groaned in frustration.

“It’s okay. Let’s try again. Can you say hello?”

Scorpius was shaking with effort. For a moment, he made his voice work, but no words formed. He screamed, crying out all his anger with his disability. He fell into his father’s arms and was silent.

Albus stared at him in horror. _I had sex with that?_ _That’s disgusting._ He felt sick. Was Scorpius still barely more than instinct at this point? Albus had thought he was progressing so well, had he really been so obtuse? Just his voice was gone. Just his hands were numb. He had been so wrong. The whole time, Scorpius had been struggling to form basic opinions, basic thoughts. Albus recalled calling him an idiot back in Poland. He’d felt guilty, but he was right.

_ Rozrod, get in here. _

“You come in here!” Rozrod responded, calling from their room.

Albus wasn’t sure if he could move. He had the horrible sensation that if he were to stand up, everything inside him would fall out. Best not to disturb the balance.

“You’re fine, come on.”

He couldn’t stand to look at the Malfoys anymore. He felt nauseous. He wished he’d eaten so he could throw up. Maybe then he’d feel better.

Rozrod walked out of the room, grabbed Albus by the elbow, and pulled him back into the bedroom. “That’s really insensitive.”

“I didn’t say any of it out loud!” Albus protested. “Besides, it’s true. He’s retarded, huh?”

Rozrod’s expression darkened. “If you couldn’t see that before, then you are.”

“Why aren’t you nice anymore?” Albus shot.

“I’m back in the real world now, aren’t I?” Rozrod glared. “I can think again. If you can think, then you can’t be kind.”

Albus shoved him in the chest, sending Rozrod falling back onto the bed. “Why don’t you shoot yourself full of heroin again, huh? We all liked you better as a junkie.”

“I liked you better when you didn’t speak to me. You should probably hold your tongue around Scorpius, too. Why don’t you call him your husband, Albus?”

The word felt like a wasp had stung his brain. “He’s not.”

“He is, though!” Rozrod stood back up. “And you can’t even say that you love him.”

Rage boiling in his chest, and Albus cast  _ muffliato _ on the door. “How can I? He’s a head case! I honestly feel like I’ve raped him, because I don’t think he’s in any place to consent. When I see the state he’s in, it makes me sick to my stomach. You know who I feel worst for? Draco fucking Malfoy. He’s the one who’s got no choice in this. He’s gonna spend the rest of his life taking care of his brain-dead fucking son, feeding him like a baby and wiping his arse because he can’t do shit for himself anymore. Why should I still have to care about Scorpius? Huh? Why is this all on me?”

“Go home, then!” Rozrod tossed his hands in the air, glaring a million volts of electricity into Albus’ soul. “Nobody’s making you stay! You’re your own man, you’re an adult. Go home, Albus! Go home!”

The whole world pressed in on Albus’ brain until he couldn’t breathe.

He disapparated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DAMN SON


	17. Choosing Precisely the Things That Are Worst for Them

The smell of home. Baked goods and candlewax and something extra that was uniquely the Potter family. It was burned so deeply into Albus’ heart, it was almost overwhelming to experience it again. He hadn’t realized just how much he missed his family, and just how stranded he had felt. The faces of his parents and siblings wearing identical expressions of surprise was almost comical. Oh- was it still Summer holiday? Lily wasn’t at school, so it must’ve been.

“Al, Merlin’s pants, you scared the crap out of me!” James exclaimed, gripping the edge of the table. They were eating lunch.

There was a calamity of questions that Albus didn’t have the understanding of or will to explain. “Ah- guys, can you- one at a time, maybe? GUYS!”

The family shut up.

Albus regained his composure. “A linear barrage of questions would be preferred.”

“Why are you here?” Harry asked bluntly.

“What happened to Scorpius?” Lily looked concerned.

“You didn’t write, did you tell anyone you were leaving?” Ginny frowned deeply.

“Marriage not working out?” James smirked.

Albus answered in reverse, “Shut up; no, not really; he’s super messed up; and I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“You didn’t tell anyone?” Ginny shot him a chastising look. “Are you going back?”

Albus hesitated. He hadn’t thought about it. If he was being honest with himself, no. He really didn’t want to. “I… I don’t know. It’s… it’s really hard right now. He’s so dependent on everyone, and I just really couldn’t… I don’t want that. He’s not himself, you know?”

For what was probably the first time in his life, James spoke seriously. “Bruv, he’s your friend.” The rest of his family sat in silent agreement.

Albus should have known they’d react that way. They were always so judgemental of everything he did, and to them, friendship was like some magic bond that forced them to die for each other.

Not that Albus didn’t have a literal bond with Scorpius.

“If anything, I just need some time away. I’m exhausted. I’m drained.” Albus couldn’t look at their faces anymore. “I just can’t… I never expected things would get this bad. I wonder, you know, with his quality of life… if he’s even really worth saving. If it wouldn’t be best just to let him die.”

He looked up to find expressions of horror on everyone’s faces.

“You can’t be serious,” James barely whispered.

“I’m being honest!” Albus scowled. “I know it’s not what you want to hear, and it’s not what I want to feel, but that’s how it is. Even Scorpius knows I feel this way, and he barely knows anything.”

The whole family grimaced like he’d just blasphemed against the gods.

“What am I supposed to do, then?!” Albus shouted in exasperation. “I want to follow him to China, I really do, but I want to follow  _ him,  _ not this shell he’s become.”

They stared at him in ear-shattering silence for a long time.

Albus’ throat constricted. “Can I just… Maybe stay here? For a bit? If that’s okay?” He didn’t want to cry. He really didn’t. He blanked his mind out so he wouldn’t.

“Of course,” Ginny said, voice distinctly flat. “This is your home.”

Albus nodded, and took a seat at the table. Ginny prepared him a plate while he sat in silence, the shock of what had just done slamming against his brain in wordless agony. Even so, his guilt was overshadowed by relief. He wanted to shower. To get all traces of Russia and Malfoys off his skin. He wanted to scream until his throat tore open, until he tore his vocal cords and was forced into silence like his best friend had been. He wanted to cry until every bit of hope drained from his body. He wanted to grieve Scorpius’ death. He had been held in stasis for so long, unable to reach the friend who was now his partner. He wanted to officially cut ties and be happy again. There would forever be a scar over his soul where Scorpius used to be because, yes, he had loved him. He had loved him so much it overwhelmed his brain and forcibly sent him spiraling into daydreams.

His family must have noticed his vaguely sad, vacant expression. When his mother spoke, it was with a lot more compassion.

“Someday you’ll feel okay again. I want you to be mindful for whatever choice you make. It’s a tough call, and you’ll likely always wonder either way. You’ll likely have regrets either way. Just know you’ll always have a choice, and that choice is yours alone.”

Albus nodded, her words barely registering. He stood, up, abandoning his lunch. He couldn’t eat anyway. He strode up the familiar path to his bedroom, stripping off his clothes before he was even behind the door. Apathy. He walked through to the connecting shower and stood unfeeling under the freezing water. He stood unfeeling under the burning water. Very slowly, his eyes came into focus, and apathy was broken. He adjusted the temperature, a low growl like a territorial dog’s in his throat.

Scorpius wearing that smile of genuine happiness that Albus could never manage to match.

Scorpius reading with that glimmer of deep intelligence behind his eyes.

Scorpius flying through the wind at breakneck speeds across the Quidditch field.

Scorpius chatting happily about the science of magic, the logic of insanity.

Scorpius staring with such love in his eyes that Albus didn’t manage to identify soon enough.

Albus slid his hand down his stomach, concentration contracting his eyebrows. He groaned, not bothering with pretence, stabilizing himself with his hand against the wet tile.

Scorpius passing every single NEWT with glowing praise from his professors.

Scorpius laughing and lounging in the common room.

Scorpius so intensely focussed on potion making- sweat, and condensation from the steam soaking his hair.

Scorpius twirling his wand between his fingers effortlessly.

Scorpius arguing aloud with himself over inconsequential philosophy.

Albus was masturbating furiously, not remotely bothering with edging or languid enjoyment. He focussed solely on orgasm, trying with everything he had to force it out of himself.

Scorpius learning Latin. Learning Greek.

Scorpius figuring out French through the roots.

Scorpius rhyming off the top of his head, thoughtlessly producing poetry.

Scorpius scratching out essay after foot long essay, beating Albus’ score without even thinking.

Scorpius bullshitting his way through HOM by sheer force of confidence, charisma, and mesmerizing vocabulary.

Albus threw his head back and didn’t bother with keeping quiet as oxytocin ripped through his bloodstream and sapiophilic climax blacked out his vision.

Like Atlas relieved by Hercules, he thought he could float away. He didn’t care. He didn’t care that he’d left. He was so happy to remember Scorpius as he was, and vowed to repress every memory he’d collected after the train.

“He died. He’s dead. He died on the train.” He was laughing with overwhelming joy, and sobbing with overwhelming grief. “He’s dead, he’s gone. He’s out of my life and I miss him but he’s gone. Never coming back. Never never never never.” He scrubbed himself clean with too much soap, and washed every captured molecule of Russian air from his scalp until it hurt. He climbed out of the shower and steadied himself over the sink, staring in the mirror at the glow in his cheeks and the light in his eyes. For the first time in months, he didn’t feel the need to vomit. He didn’t feel like he was about to fall over and die. He felt healthy and safe and free. He didn’t even feel guilt at the beaming smile on his face. Suddenly, he was hungry. He was ravenous. He needed meat and vegetables and black coffee at piping hot temperatures. He needed to run and feel the splints in his legs. He needed to fly and feel the sting in his eyes.

He rubbed himself down with a towel and stepped into house clothes, feeling the lack of grime in every fibre. He tossed the towel over his head and scrubbed until his hair was barely damp and stood on end. Most of all, he needed to get stoned and drunk out of his mind and out of reality then black out in his own bed, on his own pillows, under his own blankets. He needed to wake up and purge every chemical, every intoxicant, every godawful memory from his system and feel physical pain to overcome the depression that had been eating his soul for going on six months.

He strode back into the kitchen where his family was still eating lunch. Without a word, Albus sat down and consumed every morsel on his plate, scraping the ceramic until his metal fork screeched. He gave a furtive nod to James, who raised an eyebrow skeptically, then shrugged and followed him up to his room.

 

*******

 

Albus wanted- he wanted to stay perpetually elevated. He wanted to keep his mind just slightly above reality for as long as it took him to forget. Months passed without awareness or thought. Albus’ heart was in his throat the whole time. They went to the beach. He turned 18. They saw Lily back to school. Albus kept himself just slightly off the whole time. Never quite clean, never quite sober. A very mild, very happy extended bender. Then, every now and then, he and James would hide away in his room and fall off the edge of the earth together, hands clasped tight.

“Bruv- you know I said… Back then... I thought it was a dick move coming home, yeah?” James clapped a hand on Albus’ shoulder.

Albus nodded slowly, letting the words seep into his brain, sluggish and pulsing with THC and alcohol.

“But I’m so glad you did because… we can sit around the table and eat together and it’s like… real. Everything’s really really real.”

Albus grinned, enjoying just how far James was ahead of him. It felt good to be in control, able to laugh at his brother’s vulnerability.

James gasped shakily, staring up at the roof to keep the tears in his eyes from spilling over. “And I just want you to… like you know how you’re queer?”

Albus nodded again, grin so tight it was beginning to hurt.

“Yeah, I just want you to… I want you to go have sex with all the guys and have fun and I love you and I want that for you.”

Albus bit his lip to keep himself from laughing. “All of them?”

James looked at him blearily. “All of what?”

Laughter pushed inside Albus’ chest. “All the guys?”

James gasped, remembering. “Yeah! And all the girls too, if you want. All the people.”

“Sounds exhausting.”

James sobbed, nodding fervently.

Albus couldn’t help it anymore. He laughed. “You’re crying!”

James cried over laughter. “You’re so grown up, Al! It’s like you passed me by, and now you’re all running around doing stuff.” He pulled his knees to his chest and hid his head between them. “Just running around and going all over the everywhere and running all over- you and Malfoy, remember? You ran all over the world.” His ears were bright red. “I never had anyone like that, someone so close to me, wow, it looked amazing, and I’m so sorry and I’m glad you’re back because I want to be your friend.”

“You’re crying.”

“I’m just I love you so much!” He turned his face upwards and broke down hard. “I want you to know that everything is all the things and you and me, we’re the same, right? We’re like- we have the same parents!”

Albus choked laughing, doubling over with tears streaming down his face. “Oh gods! You’re so messed up! We have the same parents… James, slow down.”

“But- but…” James looked like he desperately wanted to say something. “But we’re like- everyone is so different from each other, and everyone is all alone, but you  _ look  _ like me! And shit, you look so much like Dad. And I don’t care about whatever you are- Slytherin or whatever- I don’t want you to feel different because I love you.”

“I’m different because you love me?” He smirked. That actually hit Albus’ heart, though. With a pang of empathy, he took the pipe away from James and attempted to catch up. He came crashing through the floorboards into void, and his head hit his chest with force that felt like it could leave a bruise. “I don’ wanna think, huh? Right? Malfoys. Off. Mm- Off, yeah? Off.” There was eternity. Albus counted to infinity twice. When he opened his eyes, James was gone. “No, what?!” Unbearable sadness filled his heart. “Don’t leave me! Don’t leave me with this! I can’t do this on my own!” He cried, curling in on himself. “I can’t do this! I can’t! Scorpius- I mean, James! I can’t hold all this!” Eyes closed, everything warped. He wanted to be five. He wanted to be a kid again. He used to be a kid, and now he was 18, and he was so out of his mind, he knew he would disappoint his eleven year old self. “Scorp-James! Come help me…” he trailed off, not sure what he wanted to say anymore. He blacked out.

When he woke, there was a seal over his lips. He gagged in surprise, and a calming hand stroked his back.

An unfamiliar but strangely trustworthy voice instructed him. “Inhale.”

He did. The air tasted weird. Like plastic. It was too cold.

“Hold your breath.”

He did. He did and then… he forgot why. Had he ever known? He couldn’t remember how to let the air go away.

“Exhale.”

He did. Suddenly, everything vibrated with the frequency of the universe. Albus’ eyes shot wide open, and he screamed- or he didn’t. He couldn’t make a sound. He forgot how. His eyes didn’t work. They couldn’t focus on anything. Uncontrollable laughter poured out of his mouth, and his stomach tingled with synthetic humour.

The world froze, and Albus died. He was sure he did. He was sure.

“Inhale.”

Merlin, why? Death had been wonderful.

“Hold your breath.”

He could do nothing but obey.

“Exhale.”

Dopamine far beyond orgasm hit his blood, and he moaned with painful pleasure. It was more than his brain could comprehend.

“Inhale.”

_ This hurts! _

“Hold your breath.”

_ I’m suffocating! _

“Exhale.”

_ Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! What’s happening?! _

“Al.”

_ No, I’m not. _

“Oi, bruv.”

_ No, I can’t. _

“You okay?”

_ Beyond okay. _

“Wanna try again?”

_ Merlin, Morgana, and Moldy-Voldy’s wet prick. Yes, please. _

“Okay. Ready?”

A sharp crack and a high pitched squeal. Plastic and frozen air. Suffocation and brain death.

“Ahh- ahh, oh gods, help, I’m… Ngh, what’s happen… Mmm, shit.”

“Again?”

_ Forever. _

“Okay, inhale.”

_ Yeah, I know the drill. _

“Hold your breath.”

_ I’ll die before I release it. _

“Exhale.”

_ No. I refuse. _

“Al, exhale.”

_ No. This keeps climbing, I don’t want to breathe again. _

“Al, come on. Your lips are blue. Albus!”

_ Don’t care. Don’t care. Don’t care. _

“Ah- there you go. Good. Don’t do that.”

_ Did I exhale? Oh yeah. I’m breathing. Damnit. _

“Think you’re good?”

_ No. More. _

“Holy hell, you’re drooling like a baby.”

_ Don’t care. Not worth the brain power it would take to stop. _

“Wanna go further?”

“Ngh- mhm.”

Something hit Albus’ tongue. Tasteless, but slightly the wrong consistency for water. He smacked his lips, forgetting how to swallow. It made him want to gag, he couldn’t swallow. “Gh- Ng-”

“Calm down, you’re fine. Nothing here will kill you.”

_ Oh, okay. I wouldn’t really mind anyway. _

Vision came flooding back, but it was wrong. It was so, so wrong. Every piece of furniture in his room, every book, every item of clothing tossed carefully on the floor… they all were love and regret and Scorpius. They were all connected. Somehow.

“Do you feel it?”

Albus couldn’t answer, he arched his back and screamed with happiness, wild smile pulling his face apart.

“Oh gods, you’re insane. It’s okay, mate. Everything’s fine.”

Had anything ever been wrong? Ever? The world was so beautiful and happy. Hadn’t it always been?

“Ready?”

“Yes!” The first word Albus had managed to say. Plastic, cold, suffocation, vibrations,  _ sex. _

“It’s so fun to do this to you, this is great.” Laughter that transformed into birdsong fluttered through Albus’ ears. “I could do this all night.”

“Please-” Albus gasped.

“Please what?”

“Anything.” His head rolled around on his spine, and musical colors shot from between his vertebrae.

“Will you go back to Scorpius?”

“Yeah, sure, yeah, come on-” Albus felt tears spilling down his cheeks like waterfalls. They crashed, and salmon swam through them.

“Can I take you there now?”

“Rozrod-”

“Yes?”

Cold. Everything was cold and storm-tossed waves threw Albus’ boat high into the air. He looked over. “James-”

“Nope.”

Sorrow built in Albus’ chest. “Where’s my brother?!” He sobbed hysterically.

“He’s here. He’s fine. Calm down. He’s just as high as you, I didn’t leave him out.”

Albus couldn’t see anything. Nothing was real. “I want my mum!” Longing and loneliness. “Tell her to come get me, I don’t want this anymore! Help me! Mum!” He screamed, hoping someone would hear him.

“Nobody can hear you. You’re okay, Albus. You’re safe. Listen to me.”

Albus was beyond terrified. He was beyond panic. He was incomprehensible screaming pain of horror.

“Want me to take you back to the good place?”

_ Anything. Anything. Anything. _

“Let me take you back to China.”

_ Huh? China? No. No. _

“Albus, he’s going to have a baby.”

_ No. No, don’t. We can’t. Abortion. _

“Too late. Impossible. Pick one.”

_ Now? Right now? _

“Any minute.”

_ How long has it been since I left? _

“A fair while. We’re just trying to get this over with. He’s taken a turn for the worse since you left.”

_ Really? Did I do that? _

“Yes, of course. What did you think would happen?”

_ Oh. _

Albus grew warm. Everything about him grew warm. Rozrod was holding him. It was so lovely.

“Scorpius, then?” Albus wasn’t sure which one of them had asked.

“Yes.” He wasn’t sure which one of them had answered.

 

*******

 

“Again?”

_ What? _

“Okay. Inhale.”

_ Oh, okay. Whatever. _

“Hold your breath.”

_ I know. I will. _

“Exhale. For real this time.”

_ Nah. I’m good. _

“Bruv, you can’t just do that. Aren’t your fingers cold?”

_ Freezing. _

“You need oxygen.”

_ Oxygen tastes rubbish. _

He’d forgotten why he was holding his breath. He forgot what all he had said- what had he thought? Scorpius?

“Scorpius-” His voice was inhumanly deep.

“What about him?”

Albus opened his eyes. James was sitting in front of him, warped, but distinctly him.

“Where’s Rozrod?”

“Who?”

Albus stared, trying to figure out what was a dream. “Is… is this real?”

“Merlin, you’re messed up. Maybe we should stop.” James looked concerned.

“Stop? Stop what?” He had no idea what they’d been doing.

“Stop polytripping so fucking hard. I mean… I have other stuff, I’ve got quite the collection, but… Maybe not all at the same time, yeah? It’s been an experiment, though. Glad I didn’t kill you.”

Albus nodded slowly, still not convinced he was in reality.

James considered. “So… See, I haven’t heard you mention Malfoy in months. Why do you care now?”

 

*******

 

“We’re gonna apparate, okay?” Someone was holding his cheek. It felt good. He felt loved.

“That’s... James?” Albus sighed as the world spun into nonsense.

“Nope. Come back to me, here. We’re gonna go see Scorpius, yeah? You ready? I’ll bring you back to the good place, then we’ll go.”

Freezing. His hands, they ached like he’d stuck them in an ice block. He looked down. He had. His hands were frozen, and everyone was laughing at him, and-

“Inhale.”

_ Of course. Yes. _

“Hold your breath.”

_ You don’t need to tell me. _

“Exhale.”

_ Leave me alone- ngh, shit fuck cock-sucking damnit that’s so good. That’s so so good. Again. Again. Again! _

“Whatever you say, Albus.”

Smell of latex and rubber- He gagged violently.  _ I’m gonna throw up. _

“Calm down.”

Icy cold and ice crystals. Something was forced into his mouth and he fought against it weakly, his throat closing painfully.

_ I’m gonna be sick. _

“Yeah, probably.”

_ Do it, hurry. Before I puke all over myself. _

“Mhm, sure. Inhale.”

It tasted like seasickness.

“Hold your breath.”

It felt like a roller coaster.

“Exhale.”

_ Nausea! My mouth tastes like lemons. Urgh- ngh, I’m gonna- Fuck. Shit. Oh wait- So good! Wow. Mm, I wanna shove my cock down my own throat. Am I? Feels like it. Ngh, good. Mmn, I wanna fuck my throat. Am I? Feels like it. _

“Should I bring you to the washroom?”

_ No, leave me alone. Don’t touch me. _

“Okay. I don’t think I should give you any more.”

_ Give me everything. Kill me. _

“I mean…”

_ I will literally kill you if you don’t. _

“Psh- you overestimate your ability to move. I don’t want you to choke. I’m gonna sit you up a bit. Let’s get this over with before we disapparate.”

_ Disapparate? _

“Gonna go watch the birth of your son, remember?”

_ Son? _

“Congrats. Curse ends with your scorpion.”

_ I’m dying. _

“No, you’re seriously fucked up, though. I wouldn’t kill you, I’m good at this.”

_ I don’t think I can physically be sick. _

“You definitely can. You probably will.”

_ I want to, I can’t. _

“Want me to shove my fingers down your throat?”

_ No! Why the hell would you say that? _

“Just trying to be helpful.”

Albus groaned. “Is this forever? Why am I like this?”

Rozrod laughed. “Ho, boy. That would take years to unpack.”

“I used to want to kill myself if I couldn’t see him. I tried. I think unless we’re together, one of us needs to be dead.”

“Wow. Like peeling an onion.” Laughter changed to a soft  _ oh  _ of concern. “Really, Al?”

 

*******

 

“Huh?” Albus was able to open his eyes, and the world was beautiful.

“Did you?” James was sitting directly in front of him, sadness bordering on fear written within the crease between his eyebrows.

“Did I what?”  _ Have I been talking? _

James wrapped his arms around his brother’s shoulders, pulling him close. “I think you need to go back.”

 

*******

 

“Ready to go back, then?” Albus started sliding down the headboard of his bed. “Whoa, there.” Rozrod steadied him. “I gotta say, you take nitrous like a champ.”

“‘S tha’ wha’ tha’ was?” He tried to store the name in his memory for later, but immediately forgot it. “Ima have a baby.”

“Yes, you are. Excited?”

“No, disturbed.”

“Really? At this point?”

Awful disgust filled him from head to toe.

 

*******

 

“You can’t go on your own, though.” James stood up. “You’re gonna get splinched.” He shuffled to the door and pushed it open. “Dad!”

They only had to wait seconds. Harry came dashing up the stairs, anger and terror in his eyes. “What happened? Did you kill him? I told you not to do this, I tore your room apart, where possibly could you have-?”

James shook his head. “No,  _ this _ is gonna kill him. Being here. We gotta go to China.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Dad!” James pleaded, leaning against the door. “Dad, he’s so messed up- not from this, hm… yes from this too, in another sense- we gotta take him back or I think he’s gonna die, Dad, I think he’s gonna kill himself.”

Harry’s eyes darkened. “Albus?”

Albus gazed blearily at his father. Yeah, he’d known, hadn’t he? Back then. He’d known. “Mm?”

Harry stared with blank disappointment. “Why are you like this?”

Albus shook his head. He had no idea. His stomach contracted. Pain, sadness, unbearable disgust.

 

*******

 

“Shit, you’re so messy. You need to shower now.”

 

*******

 

“What the frozen hell did you do to him, James?!”

 

*******

 

“Come on, let me take your shirt off. Shit, what did I do to you?”

 

*******

 

“I’m sorry, Dad. It’s not nearly as bad as it looks.”

 

*******

 

“You’re not as bad as you feel. Stop crying.”

 

*******

 

“What did he take and how much?”

 

*******

 

“It’s nothing. It’s nothing. The most dangerous thing you did was alcohol, and that was your own fault.”

 

*******

 

“Firewhiskey, pot, nitrous, and acid.”

 

*******

 

“You’re not overdosing, you can’t.”

 

*******

 

“He’s not overdosing, he can’t.”

 

*******

 

“Come on, Albus, we need to get out of here.”

 

*******

 

“Get out of my house. Go stay with your Uncle Ron, James. I can’t look at you.”

 

*******

  
Everyone in Albus’ head spoke to him at the same time, “Let me fix this, I can fix this. It’ll be fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To answer the question you're wondering but won't ask me:
> 
> Yes, I have.


	18. As the Innocent Believe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning everything, I guess. All the things. Oh god, here we go.

Painful, twisting crunch. Like being shoved through a tube. The smell of the air changed, and he was surrounded by China.

Albus couldn’t see. He desperately wanted to know which one had been reality, but he couldn’t see who had taken him. He felt weirdly clean. His hair was wet, he’d washed up somehow. He was dressed, right? Soft, clean clothes.

“Call me a fucking junkie again.”

_ Mm? Rozrod? _

“Call me a junkie again, Albus. You said I was better that way. Look at yourself.”

A foot collided hard with Albus’ side. He gasped, but he couldn’t do anything else. He was still too far gone to move, but at least he’d managed to keep his blood alcohol content from rising further. He didn’t feel sick anymore.

“Shall I leave you here? In the gutters of a foreign land, unable to speak, unable to see. Shall I leave you to be swept up by criminals and coppers alike? Do you understand me now? Can you read my mind?” His foot collided with Albus’ ribs.

_ You were nicer- _

“I was nicer as a junkie! Of fucking course! You’re nicer too, now. You’re not speaking. I can see your brain. You and your scorpion are similar now. Would it feel like rape anymore? Would you rather him dead knowing this? Now I’m clean and you’re strung out- Neal Cassidy- Shall I ditch you on the train tracks to die of exposure, never able to reconnect with your father? Can you see the universe like this- Alan Turing- Will you bite that poison apple knowing the whole world is disgusted by you, homosexual emo stoned and rolling like shit like wow, keep your life to yourself and lie for once.”

_ Who in the hell…? _

“Well, you can’t picture  _ me,  _ can you? You can’t think of me. Nobody can. So here are some analogies that might let you wrap your brain around this situation. You’re how I’ve been for so many years. Growing up ignored and insignificant- doesn’t feel great to understand the universe? Not one single friend, and I was so fucking smart. Nobody I ever met could ever compete. Nitrous- dammit, it sure made me stupid enough to do well in this moronic world of sloth-like thinkers and crazy egoists who think they’re more than they are. Did you know I’m a genius? Because of course I am. Still, everyone underestimates me. Can you understand? Do you feel it? Read a book, Albus. Read a book and learn how to see beyond your miserable self-obsession.”

_ I don’t know what you mean. _

“Of course you don’t! When I speak of myself, nobody ever does! If I attach these names- and they’re not random, read a book- you can begin to comprehend. Get up- Tony Stonem- Sociopathic bastard. Do you understand brain damage now, could you learn compassion?” He grabbed Albus by the back of the shirt and pulled him forcibly to his feet. “Keep your feet underneath you- Timothy Leary- Turn on, tune in, drop out. Drop out of our lives and endanger your friends. Fuck you, Albus Potter. Fuck everything you’re about.”

Albus’ lips parted slightly, and he cocked his head, trying to understand what was going on. “But you… You did this to me. I didn’t know what you were giving me at all.”

Rozrod was fury incarnate. “I didn’t do shit to you! You and your brother fucked each other up and your father had to  _ call me  _ because you couldn’t handle your brains anymore, and you couldn’t comprehend your father’s fear for you. Have you been paying that little attention? Your brother’s been practically disowned because your dad doesn’t believe you can be held responsible for your actions anymore. That you’re too far gone and not worth saving. Sound familiar? Does that maybe ring a bell?”

Albus could barely hold his eyes open. The whole world felt like a caffeine crash, and all he wanted was to lay down on the street and wait to get run over. Everything blurred, and his eyes opened wide as a head rush nearly knocked him to his knees. “We don’t… We haven’t got a telephone.”

Rozrod looked stunned by his stupidity. “He sent a  _ Patronus,  _ moron!” He shove Albus away, and he fell hard on his backside. “I could tell by your stuttering nonsense you were so far past reality you were a danger to yourself. I know that tone, Albus Potter. I know that voice.”

Albus couldn’t keep his eyes open. Five pound weights were strung to his eyelashes and pulled down so hard he was forced into sleep. The world warped, and he fell through the ground and landed over a metal bar on his stomach.

Rozrod had picked him up, and was carrying him away. He held Albus’ wand in his hand, and looked so entirely contemptuous that Albus couldn’t bear to look. Everything spun, the world leaked, and he woke up in a small, odourous hut stretched supine across a thatch mat. There was pressure on his chest. What from?

A baby cried, and Albus reached out to touch the wrinkled infant lying on his chest. Painful emotion he refused to recognize as joy built up in his chest and he broke down in tears. “Is this mine?”

Scorpius took Albus’ hand, smiling warmly down at him. “Yes.”

Albus’ mouth was forced open by shock and horrible hope as he stared into the silver eyes of- yes, okay- his husband. “You can talk!”

“A little.”

Everything was too much. Albus wanted to pass out again. He wanted to go back to that magical place Rozrod- no, James had sent him to. But he couldn’t. Reality slammed against his eyes, forcing them down into the sockets. He gasped with too much love, wrapping his hand gently around the baby’s leg. “I can keep this?”

“He’s yours.” Mr. Malfoy strode forward. “Both of my children, it seems, are yours.”

Albus wasn’t sure how to sit up. He desperately wanted to.

Sighing, Rozrod stepped forward and handed the baby back to Scorpius, and pulled Albus to a precarious seat. Someone shoved some pillows behind him, and he was able to lean against the wall.

Scorpius handed the baby back to Albus so he could get a better look. Within the loosely wrapped blanket, wisps of white-blond hair stuck messily out of his head. His tiny hands were balled into fists, and he squinted his entire face against the new world. Albus looked at Scorpius with amazement. “You made this?”

Scorpius shrugged noncommittally.

“Could I have it? For real? I can keep it?” Albus couldn’t quite believe it was true. He didn’t feel anyone would allow him to take possession of such a fragile, beautiful thing. But, then again… He had married Scorpius. He looked up to Rozrod, a wild look like a cornered animal burning in his pupils. “Is this real life?”

Rozrod crossed his arms. “Would you be able to even tell if I answered?”

“No.” Albus looked down at the baby, not caring if it was real or not. The love he felt in his soul was worth the dream. “Has it been named?”

“Caelum,” Scorpius whispered. “Tradition.”

“Right. Beautiful.” Albus smiled a watery smile and held the baby to his chest. “I love it and I want it to be safe and good.”

“It’s a boy…” Rozrod shook his head. “You speak of him as if he’s a doll that’s been given to you as a birthday gift.”

Albus didn’t hear. He just stared. Slowly, the baby opened it’s eyes to reveal bright green irises. Albus choked out a sob. “I did that!”

“Yeah.” Scorpius leaned against Albus’ shoulder, and they stared down at the tiny little person who would grow up and look like them.

Guilt contracted Albus’ heart. He addressed Scorpius, “I’m sorry.”

“I know.” Scorpius kissed him on the cheek and held out his finger for Caelum to hold. “I love you. You know that? Forever.”

Everyone was being too nice. He didn’t deserve it. His dad, James, Scorpius, Mr. Malfoy… They were all being so nice, and Albus couldn’t understand why. Oh, also Rozrod. They should hate him. By all rights, they should at least resent him. Forming bruises, he still felt Rozrod’s kicking him was too lenient a punishment. His dad’s disappointment in him, too compassionate a feeling. Mr. Malfoy, not a self-righteous word or an angry glance. He should have done. He should have. Then, Scorpius. Albus had hurt him both mentally and physically, leaving him alone to endure months of abuse to his brain, and even leaving him to however he managed to make a baby. Then, on top of all that, Albus had been handed a baby and told to keep it, like they trusted him not to kill it.

Kindness shot metal BBs into his heart, where they forced their way through his veins and up to his brain, setting off a terrible migraine. “You’re all so much better than me.”

“Yes,” Rozrod answered, scowling. “Obviously. Not a high bar, Albus Potter, you’re the worst.”

Scorpius rested his head on Albus’ shoulder. He closed his eyes, looking like he was struggling not to cry. “I missed you.”

Albus almost said it back, but the warning look of anger Rozrod shot him stopped his tongue. He was right. It would have been a lie. “I…” Albus shook his head, looking around at his little family. He needed to say something. But… he didn’t want to lie. How awful to say he hadn’t regretted a second of it. To say he was glad he’d run away. To tell them the actual story of all he’d been doing the past- nine months? Really?

“Albus doesn’t regret it.” Rozrod voiced his thoughts without permission. “He’s been off intentionally killing his brain with his brother, while we’ve been here struggling to put Scorpius’ brain back together. He doesn’t regret it. It would have hurt him to watch you suffer, so instead of being here to take care of you, he ran off and forgot about even the reality he had escaped to. Albus doesn’t live in reality. Even now. Right now he’s not entirely sure he’s not still tripped out on the  _ six tabs  _ of acid he’s taken over the course of these 24 hours. The walls are still melting for him. He’s here, but he’s still not here.” He sat down to look Scorpius in the eyes. “Are you willing to wait? For his brain to get better. He wasn’t for you.”

Scorpius took Caelum from Albus’ arms, and handed him to Rozrod. He wrapped his arms around Albus and held him tight.

Rozrod scoffed. “He says he loves you unconditionally.”

Albus wrapped a hand around the back of Scorpius’ head and rolled the platinum strands- like their son’s- through his fingers. “He can’t say that?”

“We’ve never gotten him to say more than three words, and nothing so long as six syllables.” Rozrod reached out and took Scorpius’ hand.

With a pang, Albus realized how much he’d missed out on those past nine months. While he was glad he hadn’t seen it, he felt excluded from their tight knit circle. Caelum was the only thing holding him there. Albus blinked, wishing he could just take his little family of three back home to number 12 and fall asleep with them in bed. He just… really wanted to sleep, but he could no longer bear the thought of leaving them. Oxytocin. Baby bond. Strong.

“What…” It felt like closure. “What are we supposed to do now?”

Rozroz stared at Mr. Malfoy, who was shaking his head blankly. “The clock is ticking. We have thirteen years, I need to know how to keep him alive.”

Mr. Malfoy shot Rozrod an annoyed look, but nodded. “So, we’re headed to India.”

Albus nodded slowly, trying to make sure he understood the words. “So… Like, right now?”

All three stared at him with blank annoyance. Everyone except Caelum. Albus nodded at the child.  _ That’s right, son. We stick together. _

Rozrod snorted.

Scorpius leaned his head down on Albus’ shoulder, closing his eyes and sticking two fingers in his mouth. Like a baby. Like a whole nother baby Albus had to take care of now. All the frustrations and sadness he’d managed to repress for the past nine months hit him hard. Scorpius wasn’t the same. He’d never be the same. Albus needed to allow himself to grieve and realize that this family he was given was never going to be the family he’d wanted. He wondered… maybe the only way to keep it together was to be nontraditional. He’d been so consumed with Scorpius his whole post-pubescent life, he’d never really considered that he could look anywhere else. Maybe he could piece things back together. Oh-

“How long do you plan on staying?” Everyone looked to Rozrod, wondering the same thing.

He looked confused. “You… you’re asking me?” He looked almost touched. “Well… I mean, I never made a plan. I just…”

_ Could you stay with him too? Think about it. Would it nearly kill you like it did me? _

Rozrod stood, mouth agape, staring at the new Potter family. “I…”

_ Do you understand, then? Because either you understand what I did, or you stay with him forever. _

Hurt flashed briefly across Rozrod’s face. “I don’t know.”

Albus scowled.  _ How long would you be able to stay with a severely disabled adult, a baby, a resentful father, and a Death Eater? Would you run away too? _

Rozrod’s eyes darkened. He looked scared. “I don’t know.”

“You know, it’s fairly rude to talk this way,” Mr. Malfoy interjected.

Albus ignored him.  _ What if Scorpius lives longer than 13 years? Could you stay with him then? That’s a long time, a human life. At some point, his father will die. What do we do then? _

Rozrod glanced at Mr. Malfoy, horror and apprehension written on every square inch of his skin. “I have an idea. I have a horrible, sociopathic idea. I’ve had it for a while now.”

Albus raised an eyebrow.  _ Necessity is the mother of invention, isn’t it? _

All eyes were turned on him. Rozrod swallowed, and mouthed silently for a moment, trying to figure out what to say.”Well, I wouldn’t say it except that…” He tilted his head at Albus. “It’s already been proven. Humans can be Horcruxes.”

Mr. Malfoy looked shocked, Scorpius looked blank, and Albus slowly smiled.

“Well, that’s an idea, then.”

“So…” Mr. Malfoy was visibly putting it together, and terrible solemnity hung his shoulders. “If he becomes a Horcrux of himself-”

“It would imbibe him with some physical aspect of his soul.” Rozrod nodded, voice shaking. “But not just sticking a piece of his soul in his body- that wouldn’t help anything. That’s where he already is. We’d need to quite literally wrap his soul around his mind. And… Erm, that might take some doing. Because, you know-”

“He’d have to kill someone.” Mr. Malfoy nodded.

Albus gasped in sudden realization.  _ Is this because I said- _

Rozrod nodded.

_ His father will die someday. _

Oh. Oh no. That… He did say sociopathic. My god.

Albus tried not to look at Mr. Malfoy. Not to acknowledge the implicit information he was thinking. It didn’t matter. Mr. Malfoy understood.

“Well, I guess that’s our next step.”

Albus’ brain was turning at an overheating rate. “Couldn’t we just…” He looked at Mr. Malfoy desperately. “Can we kill your dad? He sucks anyway.”

Mr. Malfoy shot him a look. “Do you think he would die for my son? He’d kill him first.”

Albus looked at Scorpius, who was staring blankly at a wall, not seeming to understand. “Why doesn’t he know what we’re saying?”

Rozrod shifted his weight awkwardly. “Well, we haven’t exactly  _ said  _ it, have we?”

“We shouldn’t.” Mr. Malfoy stepped forward with authoritarian reserve. “Don’t tell him.”

Horrible thoughts smashed into Albus’ heart. “But how do we-”

“Did I stutter? I said we  _ don’t tell him, _ Potter.” Anger hung like an aura around him, just quite managing to cover up the deep fear he clearly felt in his heart.

Scorpius blinked, and pulled his eyes away from the fascinating wall. “Mm?”

Rozrod was white as a sheet, and he nodded stiffly at Scorpius. “Hey, mate. We got a little project for you.”

“Must you talk to him like that?!” Albus snapped, annoyed by the patronizing tone.

“Yes,” Rozrod responded equally patronizingly. “Wanna see why?” He handed Caelum to Mr. Malfoy, and tapped Scorpius on the shoulder. “Hey, mate, we all were thinking about nipping down to the cafe for tea, do you wanna join us? Just in ten, what do you think?”

Scorpius blinked, looking overwhelmed by the information.

Rozrod raised an eyebrow at Albus. “And if… Hey, Scorpius. Hi bud, how’s it going. Okay, so if you’re hungry, we can go eat now. Whatever you want to do.”

Scorpius nodded, and stood up.

Albus stood up after him, and his heart crashed into his shoes.  _ Still? _

“Still.” Rozrod took Scorpius’ hand. “Alright, we’re gonna go down to the cafe now, since I promised him. Well… I say cafe. More like a tea house, super Chinese.” He tugged on Scorpius’ hand, and they walked out of the room, leaving Albus and Mr. Malfoy to stare at each other.

“You sure-”

“Absolutely.” Mr. Malfoy’s expression was confident, but the waver in his voice betrayed his fear. He hesitated, and dropped the facade. “Please, let’s just do this quickly. I don’t want to have to think about it.”

“When?”

“Now. Today. As soon as we can.” He shut his eyes, looking suddenly so young. Albus couldn’t picture him on such a high pedestal anymore. He felt like equals. Soldiers of the same infantry, poised for battle.

“Are you-”

“Yes! Potter! I’m sure.” His hands were shaking like leaves.

Albus hesitated, wondering what he should say, if anything. “Do you want to call some people?”

Draco scoffed. “Who?”

“Your parents?”

“Please, I was disowned years ago.” He took a deep, shaking breath.

“Friends?”

Draco scowled at him.

Albus shrugged helplessly. “Coworkers?”

Draco tossed his arms in the air, looking away.

Alright. Yes. Albus understood. Scorpius was the only thing he had in this world. If Scorpius died, Draco would have no reason to live. “Will you tell my dad?”

“Why should I?”

“He cares about you.” Albus was surprised he’d even asked.

Draco froze, considering that. He looked as if his brain had shut down; incomprehensible. When he didn’t respond, Albus continued.

“You may not consider yourself to be friends, but he does. And he cares. I’m a little confused why you didn’t already know that considering your last interaction wound up with you two passed out drunk on a couch, laying pretty much on top of each other.” He stuck his hands in his pockets as some of the haze drained from his head, like clearing his sinuses. “So… Could you at least send him a letter? He won’t get it until we’re done, so… It wouldn’t really be your problem anymore, would it?”

Draco still didn’t respond. Not even a gesture to show he’d understood.

“I just…” Albus considered, trying not to make things worse. “I think you should tell somebody. Put something in writing.”

Draco nodded. “I’ll write something. For Scorpius. When he comes back, give it to him.”

“Okay. Yeah.” That hit Albus like a blow to the head. It was real. They were doing it. They were gonna make a Horcrux from Scorpius’ committing patricide. He wanted to cry, but he couldn’t. He was too stunned. Albus wondered if it would rip his soul too, orchestrating this. He wished he had more drugs. “Do you want me to-”

“Leave, please.” Draco turned away.

Albus’ heart was in his throat, and the world blurred over and tipped to the side. He nodded and steadied himself, walking over to the teahouse in a daze.

“How’s it going?” Rozrod asked when Albus joined them.

_ He’s writing a letter. For Scorpius. _

“Ah, dammit. That’s fucking sad. Just- fucking bummer stuff. Goddamn. You know, I’m… I really resent suggesting this.” He stared down into his cup of green tea. “What was he supposed to do? Say no? It’s like being asked to donate a kidney, but so much worse…” Rozrod’s expression was neutral, but tears slid down his face.

_ I think it’s good you said something. I think if he lost- _

“I heard. If Scorpius died, he’d-” He glanced at Scorpius, trying not to say anything explicitly so he wouldn’t understand.

_ He’d kill himself. I guessed as much. But a parent dying for their kid- _

“It’s something you’d expect from him. From Draco Malfoy.”

_ And I wonder… Even just that would help break the curse. Draco dying for his son. Like my grandmother for my dad. _

“Oh, it’s Draco now, is it?” Rozrod attempted to smirk, but he couldn’t quite do it.

_ Since I saw him looking like that. _ He thought of the image of Draco Malfoy, undone to the point of teenage regression. He looked young. Scared. Albus imagined he was going back to the time in his life where things like this happened regularly.

“Shit, man. Let’s do it just to get him out of that. That’s more sad than I ever wanted to see.” Rozrod looked horrified.

_ Do you think it could work, though? Not making Scorpius into his own Horcrux. Maybe that spell of Draco dying for this would be enough. _

Rozrod nodded. “Yes, I think it will do. But that alone wouldn’t fix the problem. He’s still so far beyond recovery that without making the actual horcrux, he wouldn’t be able to mentally come back.”

It took a long moment for that to register.  _ You think he’ll come back? _

“That’s the only reason I suggested it. Otherwise, I would have recommended it as a last-ditch effort thirteen years from now.” Tears were flowing freely, salting his tea. Still, his expression was impassive. “So, when-?”

_ Today. _

“You’re kidding.”

_ He doesn’t want to think about it. _

“I guess that makes sense. So how do we-?”

_ I don’t know. I don’t know. I’m not sure how he could physically do it. He for sure won’t be able to do Avada Kedavra.  _

“Right. I guess… Plus we have to give him a reason to want to.”

_ Maybe if Draco raises his wand to me. Or Caelum. Not you, though. _

Rozrod didn’t even argue against that. “I think Caelum would be best. Scorpius is still so full of baby hormones, he probably wouldn’t even think about it.

_ Yeah, how did that work, anyway? _

“Migraines for days, then there was a lot of light, a terrible, bone snapping sound, and Caelum started crying.”

Albus nodded.  _ And I was just- _

“You said, and I quote, ‘Can I have it, please? Pretty sure Scorp isn’t any kinda slut, so it’s probably mine,’ then you started crying and blacked out.” Rozrod raised a humourous eyebrow.

_ I don’t remember any of that. _

“Well, you wouldn’t, would you.” Rozrod sipped his tea, frowning with thought. “So we put him in a dangerous location and hope Scorpius can do  _ Expelliarmus, Stupefy, _ or a powerful enough  _ Protego. _ ”

“I think… yeah, okay.” Albus stood up. “Let’s do this.”

“Hm, now?”

“As soon as he’s done writing that letter.” Albus glanced at the door, anticipation shaking his body. “And as soon as I can find new pants, because I’m just about peeing myself.”

Rozrod stood up, taking Scorpius’ hand. “Do you know what we’re doing, mate?”

Scorpius dazedly shook his head.

“Okay, let me tell you. We’re going to take you and Caelum for a walk outside. It’ll be fun. We’ll go with Albus and your dad. Sound good?” His voice was shaking to the point where his words were barely English.

Scorpius seemed to understand. He stood, “Yeah, let’s go.” There was a dreamy quality to his voice, like he wasn’t really sure what was going on, but he knew it was good.

He thought it was good.

Albus glanced at the door again, terror pounding in his stomach. He didn’t want it to ever open. He wanted to stay here forever, without that door ever opening. Biting his lip hard, he walked over to Scorpius and pulled him into a hug. “I love you so much. We’re gonna make things better, okay? We’re gonna make things better for you.”

Scorpius hugged him back. “Maybe.” Scorpius tucked his face into the warm place between Albus’s shoulder and neck, planting a kiss there before sighing contentedly. “Everything is good.”

Albus stared blindly over his shoulder, feeling more guilt and fear than he’d ever felt in his life. He really did wonder,  _ will my soul also split? _ It felt like it already was.

No. He could feel worse pain. The door swung open and Albus almost broke character. He stepped away from Scorpius and looked at Mr. Malfoy with the eyes of someone… someone asked to kill someone.

Draco passed a folded and sealed letter to Albus, who clutched it reverently. Draco analyzed Albus’ face, and compassion washed over the sheer fear in his expression. “I know. It’s hard. Be brave. Braver than I was.”

Albus almost laughed, considering the irony of his name. Draco Malfoy, asked to kill Albus Dumbledore. Albus Potter, asked to kill Draco Malfoy.

Draco took his son’s hand, and Albus tried not to think about how it was the last time. They walked like some morbid reverse of Abraham and Isaac. Albus looked over to see Rozrod getting violently sick in the bushes. He agreed. They marched their funeral march, and Caelum and Scorpius stuck together like they were the same person. They used to be.

How lucky- we’re next to the sea. Beautiful blue waves smashing violently against the bottom of the cliff, and farther out- perhaps those are dolphins. How nice, out here. We’ll have a lovely little walk, and maybe go down to the beach afterwards. Sound nice? Wonderful. Do you have your wand with you? Good. I’m always so afraid you’ll lose it. Why don’t you give Caelum to Albus for awhile? Good, thank you. Why don’t we go look over this cliff? We could look out over the sea- maybe we can see Korea. Great, watch your step. Okay. Good. Here seems fine.

Draco took a deep breath, and pointed his wand at Caelum and Albus.

It took a few seconds for Scorpius to acquire shock. “What’s happening?”

His voice was monotonous, unconvincing. Like a three year old in a class play. “Albus abandoned you, Caelum nearly killed you, I won’t let you get away from me, you’re mine. I’ll kill your family.”

Scorpius stood in utter shock, staring blankly. “Please don’t.”

“What else am I supposed to do? I won’t let anything happen to you. I would do this before that happened.”

“Dad, don’t. Please.” Scorpius hadn’t drawn his wand. He stood with barely any expression, begging.

“There’s no other option. I want your life to go back to normal.” His shoulders rolled back, and he stood with more confidence. “I’m happily willing to go to the ends of the earth-” He glanced out over the cliff. “To keep you safe and happy.”

“Scorpius, draw your wand,” Albus encouraged, hoping that would be enough.

Scorpius shook his head. “I can’t fight him, Albus.” That was the longest sentence he’d said in a year. He still had no expression. Perhaps the secret to his speaking was to keep him in shock.

Albus choked back tears and moved to stand at Scorpius’ side, barely able to speak. “I think you have to, Love. You need to do this.”

Scorpius shook his head and stood in front of Albus and Caelum. “You won’t.” He drew his wand, barely able to get a grip on it. Albus prayed- to nobody in particular and probably no one at all. But still, he prayed.  _ Please God, let him be able to cast a spell. We’re at the point of no return, help him. _

If, like Isaac and Abraham, God would come down and put a stop to this- Albus would fall to faith and worship for the rest of his life. He need a miracle. He needed anything. Anything. Mr. Malfoy stepped forward, trying to look threatening. Anything, anything, anything.

_ “Avada Kedavra!” _

Anything but that.

Green light, enough to blind those who looked too close, shot through the air as if it were pulling on each molecule. There was no thought, only horror.

Rozrod, Albus, and even Draco for a fleeting moment, stared at Scorpius in shock.

Then it was done. All done. Draco had simply disappeared, which came as a relief to Albus. He didn’t want to see.

“He used the killing curse,” Rozrod said, unnecessarily. “He shot to kill.”

“He actually did it.” Albus stepped away, suddenly wondering if it really was reality.

Scorpius stood with his wand still raised, clearly understanding what he’d just done. He dropped to his knees and passed out onto the grass.

Albus practically threw Caelum to Rozrod, and ran over and slapped him hard across the face. “WAKE UP!”

Scorpius’ eyes shot open, terror beyond words caught behind his eyes. “What happened?!”

Albus pulled Scorpius bodily to his knees. “I need you to listen to me, I need you to do exactly what I say. Do you understand?”

Scorpius nodded.

“I need to to put your hands on the sides of your head.”

Scorpius did as instructed.

“Do you want to go back to normal? Do you want to be you again?”

Scorpius nodded desperately.

“Then I need to to picture the damage in your brain. All the gaps, all the holes, think of them.”

Scorpius hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

“I need you to imagine your soul. Do you feel that pain? Can you feel it?”

Scorpius’ expression crumpled, and he sobbed loudly. “Yes!”

“Okay, I can fix it. Do you want to fix it?”

“Yes!”

“Imagine your soul tearing right down the middle, understand? Imagine it wrapping tightly around your brain, like a bandage.”

Scorpius nodded fervently.

“Now chill, cause I’m gonna stick this needle through your tongue.”

“What?!” Scorpius’ jaw dropped.

“Keep imagining! Trust me!” He held a needle in position, ready to do what was necessary. “Repeat after me:  _ Koschei Kranit.” _ He grabbed Scorpius by the jaw and watched the frantic confusion dance in his eyes. “Say it again and again, don’t stop until you feel the command to stop.”

Scorpius tried to form his mouth around the words.  _ “Koschei Kranit, Koschei Kranit, Koschei Kranit.” _ He continued on with his eyes shut tight.

“Keep going, come on, you got it.”

Scorpius halted, screaming in pain, but was able to continue the chant. Over and over until it ran together like nothing at all. Like silence. Finally, he gasped in shock and opened his eyes, which glowed red.  _ “Koschei Velebit!” _ He laughed hysterically, and grabbed Albus’ wrist, piercing the needle through his tongue on his own. He rolled forward to his hands and knees, groaning in what looked like pleasure. He pulled the needle out and looked up at Albus, his eyes wide with manic energy. He climbed up on Albus’ lap and crashed their mouths together, grinding down hard.

Albus looked at Rozrod in shock, but Rozrod didn’t look remotely surprised. He was staring over the cliff vacantly, white as a sheet. He held Caelum over his shoulder, making sure his head was turned away.

“I’m gonna fuck you into oblivion,” Scorpius grabbed Albus by the jaw and quite literally ripped his shirt open.

“Oh shit, please don’t.” Albus couldn’t say anything else. He’d lost his rational mind.

Scorpius didn’t seem to care. It was clear what was going to happen, and there wasn’t really much Albus could do about it. His eyes were terribly red, and he smirked soullessly down at Albus, who was lying on his back in absolute shock. Was this really gonna happen? Was something wrong? Had they misdone the spell?

He didn’t really have time to work it out, because his mind was so consumed with the fact he was being raped by his best friend. He blacked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry. My god, I'm so sorry. I genuinely didn't mean for this to happen. I never planned this. I didn't. I would have told you.


	19. Pursue That Flighty Temptress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prob'ly shoulda told y'all last time- Koschei is a Slavic god thing. He was the inspiration for Horcruxes, and the reason we stuck a needle through Scorpius' tongue.
> 
> That wasn't just random insanity, lol.

_ Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, my son, heir, and raison d’etre- _

 

_ You are so wonderfully intelligent. You’re independent, strong, and so very kind. You will think, you will blame, and you will ruminate for the rest of your life, but if I can be of any small comfort, I must explain: _

_ I am nothing without you. I utterly and unconditionally love you with every torn fragment of my soul. You, however, could be anything without me. I hope you will love, I hope you will forgive, but I would never ask you to forget. I’m stunned by your light, and I’m so honoured that I have gotten to meet my grandson. _

_ If you can, keep your family. It’s a terrible thing to be alone in this world. If you can, forgive Albus Potter and care for your son. If you can’t keep them, I also understand. All I want for you is to be happy. Please do whatever it takes to make your life full and content. Everything I have is yours. Everything I am is yours. Whatever you desire, I wish for you. _

_ If you never forgive me, I understand. I don’t ask you to. I am so proud to have raised a son like you, though I know it was only in small part my doing. Stand up to this world, fight for what you believe in, never back down, and never give up. Life is hard, unpredictable, and often terrible. However, life is also beautiful, a gift you should treasure. _

_ If I must speak to you for the last time, then I must leave you with some parting words befitting our lives and all we have learned. You must trust yourself, you must defend yourself, and most of all you must love yourself. When you do, you must extend the same kindness to others as is due. I won’t command you, I defer to you and your good judgement, because you are so far beyond what I could ever hope to be. _

_ I love you, your mother loves you, Albus and Caelum love you so much. Everything here was done with the best of intentions. Step up, stand out, stay strong.  Most of all, good luck. _

 

_ -Your father, utterly devoted forever. _

 

Everything hurt. Light- sunlight- what was it? No memory of sunlight, but it was painful. Grass, dew, PAIN. Pain beyond physical pain, but physical pain strongly as well. Dew- wet, cold, the worst feeling, like slugs. Slugs crawling all over his body. Cold- yes, naked and lying on the grass. What had happened? Albus couldn’t remember. The last thing that hit his mind-

_ “Avada Kedavra!” _

Oh no. No, no, no. Albus’ eyes shot open, green light having stained his vision, making everything look pink.

Soundless. Tinnitus and silence.

Scorpius stood, equally naked, screaming over the cliff.

Albus heard nothing. Deaf- nothing left.

Rozrod was holding him from behind, hiding his face behind Scorpius’ back as his hands restrained him by the neck and stomach.

_ “YOU DID THIS TO ME!” _

The first words Albus could comprehend as sound. Scorpius was looking at Albus with rage beyond reason. Hurt beyond pain.

_ “YOU DID THIS TO ME! I’LL KILL YOU! YOU KILLED MY FATHER, I’LL KILL YOU!” _

He struggled against Rozrod, and Albus vaguely wondered what had happened to the baby.

Scorpius screamed wordlessly. Rozrod continued to manage holding him, despite Scorpius’ violent struggle.

_ “I’M A HORCRUX, ALBUS! HOW COULD YOU?!” _

Albus couldn’t move. He couldn’t say a thing.

_ “I WOULDN’T HAVE WANTED TO LIVE! FUCK YOU! HOW DARE YOU DO THIS TO ME?!” _

Albus managed a weak stutter. “I-I’m… Oh gods, I’m- I’m so- I’m so sorry.” Had he made Scorpius a horcrux? He must have done, the evidence was screaming hysterically right in front of him. He didn’t remember anything after the killing curse. It was as if his memory had simply stopped as Draco’s did.

_ Why am I naked? _

The fact that Scorpius was thinking normally was the last thing on Albus’ mind. In a daze, he managed to pull his trousers back on and stand up.

Finally, Scorpius managed to pull away from Rozrod, who chased him to no avail as Scorpius fetched his wand off the ground. He held it at Albus’ neck. “I want you dead. You did this, Potter. You did all of this. Everything here is your fault. You sent me into that seizure. You kept me alive. You got me fucking pregnant. I don’t want that child, I don’t want anything you’ve touched. You murdered my father. You did this.” He turned his wand to Albus’ arm, and clasped him tight at the elbow. “Divorce me.”

Albus didn’t know what else to do. He pressed the tip of his wand against Scorpius’ arm. “I release you.”

Golden light glowed as the serpentine bond between them curled back down the path it had traced at their wedding. Scorpius ripped his arm away in disgust. “Never say a word to me again. If I ever even see you, I won’t hesitate to kill you.” He picked up his shirt and trousers, pulling them on. With a fixed, stony gaze, he pointed his wand lazily at Albus’ chest, raised a challenging eyebrow, and uttered softly,  _ “Sectumsempra.” _

Albus dropped to his knees as his skin tore open as if by a knife. He couldn’t even look up to see Scorpius walk away. Rozrod forced Albus to his back and laid his hands on the wounds, muttering incantations under his breath.

When the wounds were repaired, Albus forced himself to stand up, ignoring the dizziness from bloodloss. Scorpius was nowhere to be seen. He must have disapparated. He was gone.

Albus couldn’t even find fault in that. After all, he had done the same thing under less rightful circumstances. Albus nearly fell back down, and Rozrod wrapped his arms around him from behind, supporting him like he had done for Scorpius.

“It’s okay.”

_ It’s not. _

“No, I suppose not.”

_ Where’s the baby? _

“In the grass over there, he’s fine.”

_ I need to find Scorpius. _

“No you don’t. You need to walk away.”

_ I can’t. _

“You have done before.”

_ I can’t. _

“Go get your son.”

_ I can’t. I don’t want him. _

“That’s too damn bad.”

_ Take him from me. _

“Not a chance.”

_ I’ll give him up. _

“To an orphanage? Could you even begin to comprehend the lash back of that?”

_ My father- _

“Was orphaned himself.”

_ And Scorpius- _

“No parents either, now.”

_ You? _

“You have to ask? I’ve told you before. I’ve been alone since I was eleven.”

_ Caelum- _

“Deserves his parents.”

_ He deserves better parents than me. _

“He certainly does so. But that’s not his lot, is it?”

_ It could be. _

“It wouldn’t. Take him home. If you can’t manage him alone, ask for your family’s support.”

“Okay.” Albus looked around until he spotted a tiny pale body lying in the grass, kicking his feet at the sky. Albus walked over to pick him up, staring down at the white-haired infant in shock.

“What a terrible first day in this world,” Rozrod spoke directly to Caelum. “I hope it’s the worst day of your life.” He looked to Albus. “I can take you home, both of you. I can apparate.”

Albus nodded numbly, and took Rozrod’s arm. He barely felt the sensation, and didn’t even noticed they had arrived until Caelum cried.

Only his mother and father were there. Albus stared blankly, and held out the baby for them to take.

Ginny rushed forward and pulled Caelum from his arms. “Who’s this?”

Albus blinked, every cell in his body shut down, unfeeling. “Caelum. He’s mine. I made him. It’s his birthday.”

“Could you mean he’s your son?” Harry asked, stepping forward.

“Yeah, I guess.” Albus couldn’t see. He wasn’t quite able to focus on anything. “Ah… Scorpius left, Draco’s dead.” His voice was flat, emotionless.

There was no sound in the room, even Caelum ceased crying.

“He’s what?” Harry’s voice was barely a whisper.

Albus nodded, explaining in a monotone, “Yeah, he kinda… Yeah, I sort of killed him. So I feel like I can safely call him by his given name at this point. You know, since I’ve murdered him. I think we’ve grown close.”

_ “What?!”  _ Harry and Ginny spoke at the same time.

Rozrod stepped in, quickly relaying all the information.

There was a faint buzzing sound around the room. Albus figured it was the blood pumping through his ears. “So I was hoping… I don’t have anywhere else to go.” Albus looked at his mother. “I have a baby, I have this guy,” he gestured at Rozrod. “And also I just got divorced, I think.” Sudden feeling cut through the shocked apathy. Every feeling, all at once. “I know I’m a murderer now, and my soul is torn in two, but I hope you can still find it in yourselves to love me.”

They just stood, open-mouthed, attempting to process the information.

“And if not… I hope you can still love Caelum. He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

Ginny and Harry stared at the baby, love dawning in their hearts.

“Please take back James, at least. He’s not your worst son by any means.” Albus stared at the ground, waiting for the Sword of Damocles to fall. “This has fairly been the worst day of my life, so any sort of repercussion you have for me seems fitting.”

Ginny stepped forward. “We will always love you. Destroy half the world, and we will always love you. We will love this baby, too, and we’ll gladly accept your… Grindelwald. If he so wants.” She shot a look at Harry. “We’ll bring back James, we never should have sent him away.”

Albus looked up, comprehension shot. “Okay.”

Harry cleared his throat. “I feel as if… we probably should inform people. Of Draco’s death.” He looked wrong. His expression just slightly off. Like he couldn’t process the information. “I feel as if it’s probably our responsibility to plan the funeral.” Silently, he cast his Patronus. “Ah… Ron, please bring James back. And bring Hermione as well. We… things happened that you probably should know of.”

Ginny stared at the baby, mouth agape. “We should probably find clothes for him.” She passed Caelum to Albus and cast her own Patronus. “Mum, please come quick. We’ve got yet another family member.”

Moments later, Ron, Hermione, Molly, Arthur, Rose, James, and Hugo popped into the room. Instantly, their eyes were drawn to Caelum. Mrs. Weasley dashed forward, taking him from Ginny’s arms.

“Oh lord, there’s a Malfoy in the family.”

“Draco’s dead,” Harry said bluntly.

All heads turned to him.

Ron blinked rapidly. “I… I don’t know how to feel about that.”

Hermione slapped him in the arm. “Insensitive.” She nodded to Albus. “I suppose we have to plan the funeral.”

“Must we?” Ron protested. “Can’t we just let this one go? It’s Malfoy. It’s not like any of us will exactly miss him.” Hermione slapped him again.

Hugo piped up, “Where are his parents? Shouldn’t we call them?”

Albus hadn’t thought of that. “I will.” Carefully, he selected a happy memory. It took him a while to search. It took him a few tries to cast the spell. “Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, would you please meet us at Number 12, Grimmauld Place? Urgently, please.” He was surprised by how calm his voice was as he sent the silver scorpion away.

“Where’s Scorpius?” Rose stared in shock. “Is he okay?”

Albus couldn’t answer. He stood like a mental patient, eyes cast blearily to the ground.

Two loud snaps, and Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy stood in the room, gazing contemptuously about.

“Well?” Lucius curled his upper lip at Harry. “What am I to expect from you? Neither my son nor my grandson is here, and I’m standing in a room full of Weasleys. What possibly could you want?”

Hermione made a strangled noise of sadness and hid her face behind Ron.

Mrs. Weasley stepped forward solemnly, passing Caelum to Narcissa, who picked him up like he was some sort of filthy animal. “What am I to do with this child? Does he belong to you?”

Mrs. Weasley nodded. “As much as he does to you. Our great-grandson. Caelum is his given name.”

Understanding shot through Mrs. Malfoy’s eyes. “This belongs to Scorpius?”

“And me,” Albus stepped forward, and all eyes snapped to him.

“You managed to keep that human vegetable alive?” Mr. Malfoy looked at Caelum, disgusted. “He managed to have a son?” He scoffed, and Mrs. Malfoy handed the baby back to Mrs. Weasley. “Now, where are Draco and Scorpius? I assume you didn’t just steal that thing.”

Anger about the term “thing” was overpowered by Albus’ aversion to telling them the truth.

Mrs. Malfoy must have read it in his eyes. “Is Draco alright?”

Everyone was silent.

A flood in her eyes, just barely held back. “Is he alive?”

Silence.

Mrs. Malfoy closed her eyes, and a few tears tumbled down her cheeks. “And Scorpius?”

“He’s fine,” Albus spoke up. “Better, actually. Fully better. Just not here.”

“Where is he?” Mr. Malfoy asked flatly.

Albus shook his head. “I don’t know.”

The room fell to silence again until Rozrod stepped forward and re-explained the story. The grandparents, the great-grandparents, the uncles and aunts, all stood in utter shock.

Mrs. Malfoy’s face was stony. Suddenly, there was a loud snap, and she disapparated.

Mr. Malfoy looked where she had been, sniffing in annoyance. “I suppose I should tend to her.” He shot a soul-freezing look at Harry. “Neither Draco, Scorpius, nor that child are my responsibility. I had already sent Draco away with firm instructions that he never was to come back. I refuse to claim that child.” Without another word, he disapparated.

“What awful people,” Hermione breathed, glaring at the spot they’d left.

“Were you always there?” Ron asked Rozrod, who nodded tiredly.

Albus held out his arms to his grandmother. “Can I have him?”

Mrs. Weasley nodded, “Of course, dear, of course.” She passed him the baby carefully, and Albus walked out of the room in silence. He wanted to sleep. He wanted to wake up in a new day, ready to deal with the aftermath of what they’d done. Rozrod followed him upstairs.

“You know, I love to hear babies’ minds. Purity, trust, and unadulterated love. He loves you.” Rozrod put a hand on Albus’ shoulder, preventing him from climbing any more stairs. “He knows you and wants you.”

Albus glanced down into his own eyes, born to Caelum’s head. He didn’t look up as he addressed Rozrod. “Will you be his Godfather?”

“I’d be honoured.”

“Okay. Will you sleep with us tonight?”

“If you want.”

They walked a eulogy to Draco Malfoy up to Albus’ bedroom, and lied down exhausted, before promptly falling asleep.

Two days later. They slept a solid 32 hours before waking up. Someone had apparently taken Caelum from them, because he was nowhere to be seen. Hunger, more than anything, pulled Albus from slumber. He nudged Rozrod who woke with a start.

“What? What?”

“Let’s get up.”

“Hm… okay.”

They cleaned up and trudged down the stairs to find the entire family, extended and otherwise, sitting about the tea room, making breakfast, and chatting idly.

Mrs. Weasley was holding Caelum, who was dressed at last in a knitted sort of one-piece. He was curled up tight against his great-grandmother’s chest, sleeping soundly. Albus didn’t want to disturb them. He sat down in the breakfast nook and waited for his mother to bring him something to eat.

Ginny, Harry, and Hermione were discussing funeral plans.

“We shouldn’t have one. A funeral, that is.” Albus spoke up, staring at the plate of eggs and toast his mother had given him. “It wouldn’t be right. Scorpius was the only person he cared about in the world, and it wouldn’t be right to hold a funeral without him.” He bit into a piece of toast, chewing slowly. “So I think...Oh. Oh, no.” He slapped his hands on his chest like he still had pockets. “I never gave Scorpius the letter.”

“It’s on the night stand,” Rozrod affirmed, taking a seat next to Albus.

“Okay. Okay. How do we get it to him?”

“I don’t think we do just yet.” Rozrod shook his head, clasping his hands together. “I don’t think it would be good to give it to him now.”

Albus nodded, agreeing. “Okay. So, what do we do?”

The room was silent, waiting for someone to pass on their wisdom.

Rozrod spoke, “We move on.”

 

********

 

Two months- exactly the same amount of time Albus had stayed with him at the hospital. Two months, that’s how long he sat frozen in Malfoy Manor. He was so entirely alone. In a heartbeat, his family was gone. All of them. Scorpius sat absolutely still, wondering if he could feel his muscles atrophy, his weight burning off. He decided he could. Everything was brought to him- house elves and servants he’d called in apathetically, just because he realized he could. If he never wanted to do anything again, he wouldn’t. He would sit and have everyone take care of him while he wasted away. After all, that’s what he’d been doing for the past year. His grief had been nearly resolved, but all his love was still pounding in his throat. He had nobody to give it to. It was stuck painfully inside him, and he wanted to get it out. To take it out. On someone.

He shot up, storming to his bedroom and then pulling a comb through his hair. He carefully selected his clothing, and apparated to Diagon Alley. It would just be on the outskirts, then.

Music louder than was audible rang from every square inch of the walls. Scorpius walked inside, absolutely lacking empathy. Men of every size and caliber strolled around the club, and Scorpius turned heads as he walked up to the bar and ordered three straight shots of vodka. He tossed them down in quick succession, and turned around to scan the room. He locked eyes with some towering man and walked directly over, pulling him down and locking their mouths together. The man’s friends cheered.

“Oh, okay.” The man looked thoroughly surprised. “What’s your name, sweetie?”

“Doesn’t matter, let’s fuck.” He pulled on the man’s wrist, and he eagerly followed Scorpius down the hall, shocked. “Erm... Oi, fellas, I’m gonna go see where it goes with this little psycho. See ya later, mates.” He dropped Scorpius’ hand and ran his own down Scorpius’ back. “So, where have you come from? And where have you been all my life?”

Scorpius wrapped his arms around the man’s wrist and shoulder, mouthing desperately along his collarbone. “Take me home.”

“Yeah, of course. Right now.” They disapparated.

When the world re-emerged, everything was dark and warm. Scorpius completely blanked out and only felt sensation. Quite similar to how he had been before his dad had died, he thought. All he heard was everything but words. It felt like falling- that one moment when you reach terminal velocity, and your stomach drops. Only extended, and better. Scorpius slowly became aware that he was making noise. He was sitting up, he was doing something. He was sitting up, right.

“Never seen a twink like you take control.” These words registered vaguely in his head but hit no feelings, negative or otherwise. He didn’t bother to respond.

Feelings higher than the ether slammed against the edge of his brain. Pulsated against his soul. Absolute, emotionless high, forever and then not at all. Scorpius came crashing down, and waited until it was all over.

The man he’d never bothered to name was panting beneath him, arms stretched out. Scorpius pulled himself off, shuddering at the slimy sensation inside him. He crawled off the bed and retrieved his clothing, dressing quickly.

“You don’t wanna stay the night?”

Scorpius shot him an incredulous look. “No. Later.” He disapparated without another word, and crashed down on his bed, all the alcohol in his system suddenly hitting him. He gasped, feeling the room spin briefly before passing out fully clothed.

When he woke up, it was to a splitting headache. He shuffled down the stairs where various servants brought him breakfast and various potions so he’d be able to keep it down. He allowed himself to be dressed and cleaned, then immediately walked out the door. All day, he bounced between venues; music performances, slum parties, anonymous opioid houses, gangs of vandals and thieves- they all kept his mind high and away. He refused to let himself come down, he refused to fall back into the depression of Malfoy Manor.

_ Rush of dopamine- ah, shit. What did I do? Hmm… okay. I’m into this. Where did the world go? Light- soft light. Right, light. Right. Is this right? Is this good? Mm, good, what’s that? I feel so beyond reality. Beyond- up in the stars. Stars- Yes, us. My family. Our constellations written in the sky. Shit, go away. I’m busy now, I don’t need you. Draco, Scorpius, Caelum- Albus. Shit, no. Not him. Anyone but him. Who’s that? Sure, him. Her? Oh, no. Him. Ngh- so lit. Safe. Lit. Damn. Safe. What’s that? Where am I? I’m drunk, right? Not high, I’m drunk. How many days has it been? More than one. Less than a week. _

_ Ah wow- woke. Did I black out just now? How long? Oh, I’m somewhere else. What am I wearing? These clothes aren’t mine. Who’s that? Mm, doesn’t matter. Where am I? Am I drunk still? How long have I been on this bender? Music. There’s music. I’m lying on a bed- what’s that sound? Sharp crack, high pitched squeal, voices too deep to be human. Someone running a hand up my stomach. Shit, I like that. Small, soft, female. Okay, whatever. I don’t care anymore. I don’t care. Keep touching me. Keep touching me, shit I’m getting hard. OH! Nice. Being inside someone for a change. Ngh- she knows what she’s doing. Alright, let’s make this last. Whoa- headrush. I can’t see. Can’t think. Blacking out. Is it a different day again? Ngh, I’m inside some other girl. Don’t remember that happening. Huh? X? Sure, sounds fun. OH MERLIN, WOW! Mmh… Where am I? I think I love this girl. Is it that same girl? Oh, no. Different color. Who’s that? Gag- what? Oh, am I somewhere else? Whose cock is this? I like it. What’s that music? Fuck, my skin’s so sensitive. I could come if someone held my hand. EXTACY! I like it. Mm, shit. Hand on my back. Hands in my hair. Mouth on my neck. Okay. I like this. Kpin? S’that? Oh SHIT! Everything is beautiful, I wanna sit in everyone’s lap. Mm, coming. Fun. Ah- I’m done. Gotta remember how to think. Don’t give me anything else. _

“Day’z it?” Scorpius sat up, looking at his surroundings. There was marker written all over his body. Nice things.  _ I quite like this  _ was written in red across his chest. People had drawn pictures of flowers, suns, and moons. Psychedelic artwork was strung up on the walls, and strange piles of hippie items were scattered on various surfaces. Bones, jewelry, figurines, chess pieces, oils and tinctures and potions. So… Wizards, then.

“Saturday.” An American woman was tracing her hands across Scorpius’ thighs. “Are you Scorpius Malfoy?”

“No.” Scorpius stood up, looking down at himself. An Ilvermorny Thunderbird shirt hung loosely around his frame, and he was wearing blue jeans that had torn vertically down the right leg. “Am I in America?”

The woman laughed. “Yeah, of course. Are you Australian?”

“English.” Scorpius stepped out from behind a tie-dyed curtain, scanning the larger room. A messy flat, it seemed. People were sleeping all over couches, cushions, beds, and the floor.

“So you went to Hogwarts, then? Not Ilvermorny?”

“Right.”

“You sure you’re not Scorpius Malfoy?”

“I think I’d know.” Scorpius stepped out onto a shag carpet, realizing he was barefoot. He had no idea where his shoes were. “Where am I?”

“My apartment.” She wrapped a hand around Scorpius’ ankle. “Can we have sex again?”

Scorpius had no idea how to process the information in front of him. “Er- sure.”

 

*******

 

Rozrod held Caelum tight as he strode down the street away from number 12. He needed to get the baby out of there for a bit; Albus was having a breakdown. He’d been having those more often lately, and the whole house was erupting into rage and yelling. It had been hard, in recent months, for Albus to accept Caelum. He was looking more and more like his fathers every day as he grew from wrinkled infant to full-cheeked baby. He rarely even looked at Caelum anymore. Rozrod had become the child’s primary caregiver. He was just six months old and already in a broken home.

“Would you like to go to the market, Caeley? Why don’t we go pick up some formula and get you fed.”

The baby blinked his wide, green eyes and smiled.

“Well, alright, then.” Rozrod understood the baby’s every need. They made a happy pair. “I’m going to go to work, tonight. Understand? You’re going to spend some time with Great-Grandmama.” Mrs. Weasley was his secondary caregiver while Rozrod went to work. Caelum absolutely adored her. He kicked his legs and squealed excitedly whenever he saw her, and Mrs. Weasley loved him too. Caelum was never lacking for knitted onesies, hats, socks, and mittens. He looked like a yarn store had spat out a baby.

Rozrod browsed the shelves of the local market, picking out Caelum’s favorite mashed foods and formula. They were supposed to be weaning him off of it, but Rozrod figured he deserved it today. The child had woken up to a frying pan being thrown across the room while his grandfather shouted loudly at his father. He’d woken with a start and cried momentarily until he realized what was going on. He calmed down at the calamity- it had become the norm. It broke Rozrod’s heart to see him so accepting of the violence, so he’d pulled him out of his carriage and rushed him out the door.

Caelum sat happily in the grass, bending over to clutch at his chubby feet. He had mashed peas all over his face, and he seemed to enjoy it.

“It’s a boy, yes?” A pretty woman with white hair and a shockingly pink dress bent over to address Rozrod.

Rozrod just stared for a long moment, not used to being spoken to. “Er- Yeah. He’s a boy.”

“What’s his name?” She sat down beside Rozrod, smiling warmly at Caelum.

Rozrod didn’t quite know what to do.  _ She’s talking to me. Why?  _ “It’s… Caelum.”

“Like the constellation?”

“Yeah.”

“Pretty. Hello, Caelum.” She waggled her fingers at him.  _ He’s so sweet. I’d like a baby. I wonder if I’ll ever get married. _

Caelum gaped at her, then smiled.

She then turned to Rozrod. “So, he’s yours?”  _ He’s very young. Not married. It’s not his baby. _

“Mm, kinda.” Rozrod looked back at the baby, trying to work out for himself what he was. “I’m his Godfather. I take care of him.”

“How nice,” she said dreamily.  _ Where’s it’s father, then? I wonder if it’s parents have died. Doubtful. Something’s wrong with it’s parents. _ “So, who are you, then?”

_ What the hell? What are these thoughts?  _ “I... Rozrod. Grindelwald.”

Her eyes widened. “Grindelwald.”  _ Grindelwald, wow. Strange brain. I figured someone important. Grandson. _

“You know, then?” He raised his eyebrows. He’d assumed she was a Muggle.

“Yes, I’ve read all about him. I’ve heard he didn’t really die in prison, but he escaped and lived out his life in Peru with the native tribes.”

“Well…” Rozrod didn’t know much about his grandfather, but he was pretty sure that wasn’t true.

“He was a great wizard, your grandfather.” She stretched out her feet, looking up to the sky. “He was truly great. Awful, yes, but… really fascinating. He hunted for the Deathly Hallows, you know.”

“I… I do know that, yes.”  _ Why is she talking to me? How is she talking to me? _

“Nobody’s ever had all three except for Harry Potter, right? Harry Potter, wow… That’s a fascinating story too.” She smiled at Rozrod and looked back to the baby.  _ I wonder who his parents are. I wonder if they’re a Wizard and Witch. Constellation- Malfoy? I wonder if he’ll go to Hogwarts. How sweet- I hope he’s a Hufflepuff. I bet Slytherin, though. Definitely- look at him. Malfoy. _

Rozrod really couldn’t figure out what was going on. Her thoughts were strange, and her behaviour was inexplicable. He cleared his throat. “So, who are you exactly? Ah, I mean, you know… What’s your name?”

“Helena Scamander. It’s very nice to meet you, Rozrod Grindelwald.” She beamed at Caelum. “Who are his parents, then?”

Rozrod wasn’t sure if he should lie. Seemed like a lot to explain if he said Albus and Scorpius Potter. Quite a lot of background information. He wasn’t sure what else to say, though. “Albus Potter and Scorpius Malfoy.”

She nodded, unfazed. “So one of them was transfigured male while in the womb? Scorpius Malfoy, I would guess. I went to school with them, I should have guessed they’d end up together. Not sure why I didn’t know.”  _ He’ll be a Slytherin for sure. What a waste. Look how he’s dressed- Molly Weasley. Albus Potter looked the same after Christmas. He’s with Grindelwald- What happened to Albus and Scorpius? Not dead, no, but they left the baby, it seems. Why? _

Rozrod could barely remember what she’d said, he was so baffled by everything else. “M- yeah. Yeah. They- well, yeah.”

“How’d they do the surname, then?” she asked, not bothering with Rozrod’s stuttering response.

“Just… Just Potter. Caelum Potter.” Rozrod stared at her, his heart jumping. It was the first time he’d ever been approached by a girl, and she was so beautiful, and she asked about him, and she liked the baby, and-

“So Scorpius was the one to leave, then.” She nodded knowingly. “I’m sure that broke Albus to pieces.”

Rozrod nodded slowly, brain overloading.

“Lonely, it must be.” She reached out to touch the back of Rozrod’s hand. “Able to see everyone’s minds, but never anyone seeing yours.”

Fear overcame curiosity. “What! I-”

“I know.” She pulled her knees to her chest. “I just sort of know things.”

“You just sort of know things.”

“Yes.”  _ You’re reading my thoughts, aren’t you? I feel it. It’s strange. _

“Yeah. I am. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” She squeezed Caelum’s hand. “I never lie, I have nothing to hide.”

“Never?”

“Never. I believe in absolute honesty. Can’t you tell?”

“Yes.”

“Would you like to have tea with me?”

“Yes, definitely.”

They stood up, Helena taking Caelum on her hip. “People will think he’s ours. He does fairly look like the two of us. They could only assume.”

_ What a strange thing to say.  _ “Yes, they’re thinking that.” People  _ were  _ looking at them. Rozrod wasn’t used to that. Usually, their eyes passed right over him.

Helena hummed, “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“Huh?”

“Must’ve been a hard life. Things are better, though. You’re happy.”  _ You’ve seen awful things. _

“I…” The words died in his mouth. “Alright, honesty, yeah? Why are people looking at us?”

Helena gazed around. “People always look at me. People think I’m a wonder, an enigma. They can’t comprehend me, but I fascinate them.”  _ Sound familiar? _

“Vaguely. I guess… So, we’re similar, then?”

_ People think I’m crazy. _

“Are you?”

“Isn’t everybody?” They approached a cafe and let themselves be seated. Caelum got a special high chair which he laughed about, kicking his feet wildly beneath him.  _ Do you love me? _

Rozrod nearly choked. “Wow, that’s…”

“Honest?”

“Forward.”

Helena smiled, placing her order with the server. “I was happy to find you. I think we’ve been drawn together.”

“Have we?”

“Yes.” She gazed down into her lap, twisting her fingers together. “Some things are beyond coincidence.”

Rozrod nodded, his heart pounding. “Yeah, I figure the odds on this are pretty huge.”

“So, if we’re meant to fall in love, let’s do it now.” Her eyes shined, staring just beyond Rozrod’s.

He sat still for a long moment, letting the thought of that seep through every corner of his brain. “Okay.”

 

*******

 

Lily was carefully tending to a lump on Albus’ head as he lay sprawled flat on his back while Ginny and Harry screamed at each other. Albus groaned and tried to sit up, but Lily pushed him down firmly.

“Don’t move, you could make it worse.” Healer training was coming in useful again. “Rose, will you get some ice in a towel for me?”

Rose nodded and dashed off. The whole family had been staying at Grimmauld place recently, trying to keep everyone together. It was getting dangerous to leave the Potter family alone with themselves. Only grandparents at that point were still living on their own.

“W’happen’?” Albus opened his eyes, which slid back and forth hazily.

Hugo grinned. “You said some pretty fucked up things about your dad, and now he’s angry.”

“Wha’ I say?” Albus shut his eyes again, and Lily rolled hers.

Hugo laughed awkwardly. “You called him Albus Dumbledore’s fuck toy and asked him if he’d named you in the hopes you’d grow up looking like him.”

“Holy shit.” Albus squinted his entire face.

“Then you may have mentioned the fact that as Grindelwald was here, you may as well follow in Dumbledore’s footsteps, and maybe he’d like to watch.” Hugo shook his head incredulously. “That was my favorite part.”

“Thas’ fucked up…” Albus slurred, lips parting slightly as he nearly fell back to unconsciousness. Lily patted his cheek.

“Also you said that he was just mad about Scorpius because he’d never gotten a chance to fuck Draco before you killed him.”

“Merlin, why the hell I say tha’...” Lily pressed the cold compress against his head, and he winced. “No wonder he hit me.”

“For real.” Hugo was squatting on the balls of his feet, and stuck his head between his knees shaking with repressed laughter. “I’d’ve hit you too.”

Lily sighed, pulling open Albus’ eyes. “Well, you definitely have a concussion. I guess just lay there for a bit, I dunno.”

“Gee, thanks, Dr. Lily. Great Healer-ing.” Albus rolled his eyes and pushed himself to a sitting position. His expression melted into one of shock. Lily figured his blood pressure was off, everything must have rushed away from his head.

“Or you could not listen to me and have that happen.” Lily was furious. Albus was beyond frustrating, and he didn’t even seem to be trying anymore. She scowled. “Do you know where your son is, Albus?”

He blinked at her, looking absent. “Son? Oh, Caelum.” He frowned, clearly lying. “I know where he his, leave me alone.”

“Where is he, then?” Lily folded her arms at him, calling his bluff.

Albus didn’t have an answer.

“He’s been gone for a week. You didn’t notice?” Lily scowled at him with utter disgust. “He’s been with Grindelwald and Grandma, you didn’t notice?”

Albus managed to look vaguely guilty. “I didn’t ask-”

_ Not this bullshit again!  _ “I’ve heard that before!” she shouted, standing up. “You didn’t ask to have him, so what?! Plenty of people don’t ask for their children, you’re not the only one to have a baby, Albus. That’s no excuse.” She clenched her hands into fists, hoping she could deplete some of her anger.

“Shush, could you maybe not do this now?” Albus groaned, probing the sizable lump on his head. “My dad just hit me.”

Lily hesitated, debating between lecturing further and being compassionate.

It had been hell at the Potter house as of late. Albus was sporting a rapidly increasing collection of bruises, and this was the second concussion he’d gotten since the whole thing started. Their parents were on the verge of divorce, with Ginny still fighting for at least her other two children if not Albus anymore. Nobody was really standing up for Albus anymore. Not that he deserved it, and he definitely initiated most of the fights than his dad. He was going on 19, and he’d already forgotten he managed to make it past 17. He still called himself 17, when anyone asked. It was like those years had been erased. Caelum was going on one, and he called Rozrod Dada. Nobody really asked how old Rozrod was, but none of them thought about him anyway.

James was leaning against the doorframe, watching with strung-out apathy. He’d been mentally absent since he’d been briefly kicked out of the house. It was like he’d never really come back. He lit a cigarette indoors. Nobody cared. Lily shut her eyes, trying not to cry. She was the only one left still trying to make things normal. As a result, she was ignored almost completely. She hated coming home from postgraduate school every night when she had just spent the day looking after sick and injured people. How very Kafka-esque; she had to come home and tend to whatever new injury Albus had acquired, or whatever new drug James was overdosing on. They’d all fallen down the rabbit hole and Lily was Alice, stuck in limbo, still trying. She wished she was still at Hogwarts. As soon as she completed Healer training, she was going to leave and never speak to any of them again. Sometimes she wondered what had happened to Scorpius. He was the only one who could ever keep Albus normal and calm throughout their whole childhood. Lily tried to keep herself from hoping he’d come back. Even if he did, it was unlikely he and Albus would have the same relationship. It would probably only make things worse.

Albus struggled to stand up, and wobbled out of the room. James watched him go over his shoulder, and Lily gave up trying to keep him still. Maybe he’d be better with brain damage. Maybe he’d be nicer.

James gave a nod to Lily and strode over to the front door, slapping the portrait of Mrs. Black and making her scream. It didn’t really add much to the calamity already in progress. He stalked outside, and slammed the door behind him.

“FILTHY HALF-BLOODS CONTAMINATING MY HOUSE!”

Racist family members. Everyone had ‘em.

Lily was on the verge of tears. She jumped when Rose put a hand on her shoulder, and the two of them walked out into the garden.

“It’s going to calm down, you know. Eventually.” Rose took Lily’s hand and squeezed it comfortingly.

Lily took a shuddering sigh. “I’m really grateful to you, Rose. To your whole family. I know it must be awful staying with us.”

Rose nodded. “Sure is. But we’d never let anything happen to you. We’re here for you all, should you need our help.”

“We’ve already asked for too much of it.” Lily stopped, looking up into a tree where a little yellow bird sat perched on a twig. “That’s my Patronus.”

“A canary? Fitting. You’re always first to notice when things are going wrong.” Rose looked up at the bird sadly.

“Will I suffocate too?” Lily’s bottom lip trembled.

“I don’t know.” The bird flew away, and the girls met eyes. “Will you?”

Lily took a deep breath. “Two years. That’s how long I need to make it through.”

“Then out into the wild wild world?” Rose stuck her hands in her pockets. “Good luck. Really.”

 

*******

 

Wow, what a tiny person. So small. Standing on my nose- oh, I know. She’s far away. Yes, far out away from me. Where’d my depth perception go? Wow. I wonder if this hurts. I wonder if this hurts. I can’t tell what hurts anymore, I don’t like it. Look at my hand! It’s so far away. Wow, I can reach all the way through time. Wait- am I? Can I go back in time? Oh yes. I can. Or can I? Wait- yes. No? I don’t know. Why was I asking? I forgot. Ah- what was that noise? Albus? Downstairs, I’ll go have a look. Stay here, dove, I’ll be right back. Ah- can I walk? Yes. Okay. Yes. I can. Am I walking too slowly? Really really slow, I think. Speed up. Shit! Too fast! Slow down. Damnit, far too slow. I’m gonna fall down the stairs. Why am I doing this? Stairs? Albus. Dad. Right. Oh, right. My girlfriend. What am I doing with her? Sitting. Oh, I’m stoned. Kick, wow. Kick hard. Hm- Albus is holding Caelum? Weird. Where’s Rozrod? I don’t see him. Oh. There. Yes. I never notice him. I wonder why. His girlfriend. Helena. Helena. Oh! Lysander’s kid, I get it. Dad’s having a fit- what happened? Where’s Mum? Oh, I see. She’s holding onto Albus’ shoulders. Restraining him? Protecting him. Is it Caelum’s birthday? Is he two? Wow. Mm- bet there’s cake. Maybe I can sneak down…

“James!” Lily was glaring up at him with their mother’s classic expression. Damn, they looked similar. Why hadn’t James inherited such specific looks?

“Mm… Hey, Lils.” He blinked, trying to look normal. “What happened?”

“Neveryoumind what happened. Get that girl out of your room before you make things worse.”

James looked up the stairs to see the girl staring down at the scene over the handrail. “Ah… dammit. Dude, you gotta stay upstairs.”

She shot him an exasperated look. “Why?”

“You’ll make things worse!” He quoted his sister.

She huffed and walked back up the stairs.

“So, Lils-”

“Go back to your room, or manage to look normal. They’re gonna be so angry with you.”

James frowned. “This is my normal. Am I ever clean?”

Lily looked like she wanted to argue, but sighed, shoulders drooping. “Yeah, I guess. Don’t just skulk around corners, though, it makes Mum antsy.”

“Mhm,” James responded absently. He stuck his hands in his pockets, and walked over to crash down on the couch next to Hugo. “Sup, Cuz?”

“Today it’s about Caelum calling Helena Mum and Rozrod Dad.” He slid down the couch so his legs were sticking out. “Your dad was steamed Albus hadn’t spent any time with Caelum in about a year, and Albus was freaking out that he, quote,  _ ‘Didn’t want the fat little blob anyway.”” _

James sighed, sliding down on the couch as far as Hugo. He laughed, “This is so fucked up right now.”

Hugo laughed with him. “How in the hell did we get here?”

James blew a raspberry. “Fuckin’ Malfoys.” He scratched the back of his head, trying not to fall asleep. “Was Albus hurt?”

“Not too bad. Took a couple of blows to the arm, but he’s fine.” Hugo sighed. “Why is this normal?”

“Fuckin’ Malfoys,” James repeated. “Wish he’d been a Gryffindor. Maybe he’d never have even been friends with Scorpius.”

“He would have.” Hugo pressed his palms into his eyes. “I’d almost forgotten about Scorpius, wow. So focussed on all of us- I’m just thinking of Caelum as the only Malfoy.”

“He may be now,” James mused. “It’s been about two years, hasn’t it? Who knows what happened to Scorpius in that time.”

They sat in that, the strong possibility that something had happened to him settling in their heads. Scorpius should have calmed down already. Why wasn’t he back?

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Hugo said blankly.

“Yeah, of course. Of course he’s fine,” James responded equally blankly. They changed the subject. If Albus knew they were talking about Scorpius he’d be yelling at them for hours. “Helena’s a strange girl.”

“Yeah. Where do we know her from?” Hugo squinted as if he were straining to remember.

“Hogwarts,” James supplied.

“Right…” Hugo still couldn’t seem to place her.

“Luna Lovegood’s kid.”

“Right! I remember.” Hugo grinned. “Strange girl. Hope she marries Rozrod.”

“She probably will.” They’d been inseparable since the day they’d met. “Then we’d have all of Dad’s friends in the family.”

“Draco Malfoy?”

“Friends plus Draco Malfoy.” James stood up, and the world lurched. “He’s dead, though, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Yeah.” Hugo stood up too. “Wanna go look for him?”

“Draco Malfoy?”

“Scorpius.”

“Ah. Not really.”

“Think he’s dead?”

“Hope not.” They stood shoulder to shoulder, gazing out over the warring sitting room. “Okay, how fast can you pack?”

“Already there, Cuz.”

“Let’s go find my brother’s baby daddy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Hey Hey


	20. What is Right

Beautiful Beautiful Beautiful! The trees- like wicker baskets- holding us below the sun, and the sun- Gods the sun! It’s fingers through the leaves and fingers in my hands and it’s nymphic streams of golden hair washing into the river- it’s silver. The rocks- round perfectly round like the precariously hanging teeth of the junkies and whores ready to tumble from their stations and join with all of ours in the river. The river! My god, the river! Springing suddenly from the ground in fountains sexual fountains through the rocks and the boulders and the  _ I love you  _ written in paint across the trees and the rocks and the faces of every new naked dancing soul- LSD and personal high- screaming in ecstasy for no reason at all- or every reason at once, and we’re all gonna fall because the world is so beautiful at last- in the forest. Beauty and escape from the hung and the porous cancerous backs of smog and bureaucracy. We’ve finally slit our wrists open and our blood pours blue- pureblood blue yours does too. Live for the forest! Die for the forest! Viva el bosque! Because we’re beyond reason beyond thought beyond time and the soldiers- PTSD- screaming in pain and pleasure against the cliff face with each other. It could be terrifying. It was terrifying. But more- always wanting more, nullifying crash and revival and painful survival. Oh god, death. Death in my lap and in yours and in ours all together surrounding the yellow and orange and blue of the fire. I want you- I take you- you want me- I’m yours. I’m expired. Let’s run, my legs are screaming in atrophy and ketogenic energy I haven’t eaten in days I’m sure. My hair- right! My hair! It falls down my back, it lacks my new incarnation for two years, cut it. I’m free now, cut it. I’m done. Weight! I’m weightless. Let’s fly- I could fly if I wanted I don’t ‘cause these faggots are holding my legs and biting my heels and I love them. I love you. For real. I love every leaf and stone and pebble and twig I love every dead body- Heroin, HIV- littering the riverbed and godly beautiful decay and I’ll be one of them someday but now the hands of these faggots on my ankles on my calves on my thighs on my hips in my lap- I’m dead and alive and I can’t wait for this manic high to stop but I love it I love you I love you, so crop my insides push your hands deep in my mind and rip out my heart and eat it- it’s yours. No family? Ha- this is my family. Stark naked nameless and faceless and contorted high mania insanity schizophrenia and orphans- like me? Not like me I’m fine I’m free I’m so very very happy of course this is just time. Never went to school- none of them, some of them, most of them never went to school this is childhood this is home and they lay on their backs and their fronts and they’re so damn alone- me too- I should run, I should go but I can’t- ah the beauty, like sirens like seraphs like Viva Koschei and Tom Riddle and me, not my parents. ‘Cause we will or we did are we dead? I’m dying too but slowly. Slowly. Slowly. This is all in my head.

 

Insane laughter issued from Scorpius’ mouth, and his back arched from the rocky floor of the riverbed. He was naked- nearly naked- and piles of clothes from the Forest People lay under the largest oak tree so they’d be able to find them in the dark. He wasn’t sure which way he was facing oh, the river was touching his feet, so his head was to the forest. He never wanted to think of anything again. He never wanted to leave, but he knew he’d have to. Morning was coming, and the police were on their way. He stood and walked over to the clothing pile, picking out his Ilmorny shirt he’d gotten a while back. He was emotionally attached to it at that point. Like a security blanket. He took someone else’s trousers, which he thought were cool, and didn’t bother to find his own. He squatted down on a boulder in the river, lighting his pipe. Just a couple hits- get him through the anxious morning of trying not to get shot by various gangs he’d inadvertently pissed off. He was a part of the Forest People- those truant and lost souls gathering in the closest thing to a family they’d ever had. They were mostly non-violent with the gangs- they didn’t consider themselves one. Still, a large amount of heroin and marijuana was passed through the forest, so it’s what they’d become. Scorpius had found them his first month in America, and instantly fell in love with them. It was romance, but with a whole crowd. That’s why the rates of HIV were 1 in 3. Scorpius was careful to the point of paranoia. Family members dropped every day. Scorpius fell further and further into the culture until he was native. He couldn’t remember a time before the forest. He genuinely wondered if everything before his coma had been a dream. Maybe he’d been seeing visions for all that time, and he’d forgotten who he used to be. He almost convinced himself. For a long time, he did truly believe it. Scorpius Malfoy… Probably wasn’t his real name. Everyone called him Albino. Seemed fitting. Sometimes his eyes flashed red.

He watched the river slither through the trees, and his heart pumped wildly with desire to float away. He could do it, he figured. Swim all the way down the river to Mexico. He’d never been to Mexico. He should go to Mexico. With a sigh, he decided to go over the edge, letting himself get higher and higher until there was no more atmospheric pressure on his brain and he expanded into space. Everything was dark, and the sounds of the river blended with the sound of blood in his ears.

Silver. Silver. What’s that? Ah- penguin. Silver penguin.

With horror, understanding hit his brain. Patronus. Patronus. Shit. Patronus.

_ “Master Malfoy, a James Potter and Hugo Granger-Weasley are here to see you regarding some information about your family. Shall I tell them to go away?” _

Just like that, nearly two years of escapist forestry came to a crashing halt. He wanted to cry. He sat still and finished off his bowl until he lost depth perception. Then, he did cry. For a long moment because he didn’t get to be Albino anymore. He had to be Scorpius Malfoy and that was the last thing he wanted to be. Someone put a hand on his back.

“Hey Al, what’s up?”

Scorpius nearly fell into the river. That name- yes, it was real. It was a part of his old reality, and he didn’t want it. “I think I have to go home.”

The person- Carlo, Scorpius recognized, sat down with him on the rock. “Will you come back?”

“Probably not.” Deep loss sunk in Scorpius’ stomach. It had been a beautiful period of his life, but once the spell was broken, he knew he couldn’t go back.

“Oh,” Carlo said sadly. “I’m gonna miss you.”

“Yeah.”

Carlo stroked Scorpius’ cheek. “Will you say goodbye to me?” He pressed his forehead against Scorpius’. “I love you. I’ll miss you.”

“Yeah.” Scorpius ran his hand along Carlo’s jaw, kissing him gently.

They sat like that in a long moment of eternal goodbye, pain rising steadily in Scorpius’ chest.

Carlo deepened the kiss and Scorpius pulled away. “I don’t have time for that.”

Carlo wrapped his arms around Scorpius tightly. “I love you so much.”

Scorpius blinked to hold back tears. “I love you too. I love you all. But there’s people out there who need me more than you do.”

“Impossible.” Carlo turned his face into Scorpius’ neck. “Visit me?”

“No.”

“Okay.” Carlo pulled away with a watery smile. “You’re the best of us. You’re my favorite. I’ll miss you always.” Carlo looked down as a few tears dropped from his eyes to the river. “I’ll write about you, okay? I’ll write everything about you down on paper so I’ll have you forever.”

Scorpius’ lip trembled. “I love you so fucking much it hurts.”

“Wanna say goodbye?” Carlo took his hand.

“Okay.” Scorpius took a deep breath. “Fuck off and never speak to me again. I’m done with you, I’m done with all of you. I’m sick of this place, I want my family. I wanna be clean.”

Carlo scowled. “Fine. Fucking leave. You’re not one of us anyway, you never were. Go back to England, fucking foreigner.”

Scorpius stood up, trodding across the river to the bed. “Fine, I will.” He clenched his jaw. “I’ll forget you.”

“I’ll forget you too.”

They stood looking at each other for a long moment, then Scorpius strode out in the forest so he could disapparate.

 

*******

 

Malfoy Manor. It stood proud and intimidating over luxurious green gardens. Peacocks strode about, puffing out their chest and plumage, knowing they were beautiful. James and Hugo shrugged, approaching the gate.

“Ahh…” James pushed on it, hoping it would just swing open. “Weak.”

“Oi, Scorpius!” Hugo yelled.

A moment later, some well dressed butler walked carefully out the door and approached them slowly, knowing they’d wait. “How may I be of assistance?”

“Where’s Malfoy?” James asked bluntly.

“Master Malfoy isn’t home.”

“Bull, where’d he be then?” James crossed his arms and scowled.

“He hasn’t been here in years.”

Both Hugo and James gaped with the same expressions of surprise. “What?”

Hugo cleared his throat. “Is he alive, you reckon?”

The butler gazed at them coldly. “I presume so.”

James hummed, looking around. “Got any idea where he might be?”

“Haven’t the foggiest.”

James grunted in frustration. “Do you know how we might find him?”

The butler’s eyebrows drew together. “Who, may I ask, are you?”

“James. Er, Potter. So… Albus is my brother. And, right, this is my cousin Hugo. He’s Albus’ cousin. Ah, yeah, of course he is.”

“Albus Potter?” The butler nodded, understanding. “I’ve been given strict orders to keep Albus Potter and associates off the grounds. I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

James groaned, throwing back his head. “Can you just- We just really need- Gah, it’s been two years at this point, he’s really still angry?”

“That’s none of my business. I just follow orders.” The butler turned to walk away.

“Oi, but we’ve got his kid!” Hugo shouted. “Isn’t he like… the heir or something? If Draco’s dead, Lucius is somewhere else, and Scorpius is gone, isn’t Caelum the guy for this? Next in line or something?”

The butler froze, turning around. “Caelum Potter is with you?”

“He could be!” Hugo called encouragingly. “Hold on a tic.” He disapparated.

“Whaa-?” James stared at the spot he’d just been until Hugo snapped back into presence, holding Caelum in his arms.

“See? Look at the Malfoy-ness of this kid. Looks just like Scorpius. But like… younger.” Hugo held Caelum out, hands under his arms so he was dangling in the air.

“Yes, I know Master Caelum well.” He strode back to the gate and opened it. “I’ll send a message to Master Malfoy. Remain in the gardens.” He picked up Caelum, holding him much better than Hugo had.

“James! Hugo!” Caelum called out in distress.

“Just hold on, bud. We’re gonna get your dad.” James waved at him, but Caelum still looked scared.

“Daddy?” He looked slightly happier.

“Well…” James shifted his weight awkwardly. “One of your many dads.”

“I don’t want Albus.” He scrambled to look over the Butler’s shoulder.

“Does anybody?” James muttered. “Nah, someone else. Gonna meet your other dad.”

Caelum stuck his fingers in his mouth and nodded. “Mkay. Soon?”

“Soon, mate. Just hold on.”

Caelum turned around, allowing the butler to carry him off.

Hugo and James stood awkwardly in the garden, staring around and hoping the wait would be short.

Hugo broke the silence. “We just gave Caelum to a stranger.”

“Probably not the brightest idea, yeah.” James bit his lip, focussing on the door. Any minute, right?

A loud snap. “Why are you in my gardens?” They spun around to see Scorpius looking irate.

“Oh, shit.” James looked him up and down. He had no shoes on, his trousers were covered in patches and pins, torn down the middle. He had an Ilvermorny shirt that looked a million years old. Besides that, he was wearing a strange array of necklaces and had bruises all down his arms. His hair stood on end, like he’d been sleeping for some time. He finally met Scorpius’ eyes and tried not to look concerned at the deep circles falling under them, the tear tracks down his dirt-stained face, or the green bruise along his jaw. He looked a mess.

“What the hell happened to you?” Hugo’s jaw hung to the floor.

“None of your business! What possibly could have inspired this unwelcome visit?” He crossed his arms and looked at them with absolute disdain.

“We…” James forgot what he was going to say when he noticed the lines of yet more bruises along Scorpius’ throat. “Were you strangled?”

“You need to fuck right off and explain yourselves.” Scorpius tried to look angry, but fear flashed briefly across his face.

“We have Caelum,” Hugo cut in. “He’s inside.”

“The baby?”

“Well, he’s two now.” Hugo shrugged. “You could meet him if you’d like.”

All expression dropped off of Scorpius’ face, and his crossed arms fell to his sides. “He’s two? Am I twenty?”

“Goddamn, son.” James almost laughed, Scorpius was so messed up. “Where the hell have you been?”

Scorpius’ eyes darkened. “Places.”

“Good places?”

“Forgettable places.” Without another word he turned to walk inside.

James and Hugo followed him, giving each other a worried glance. The decorative door to Malfoy Manor swung open on it’s own. The halls echoed with their footsteps as they made their way to the parlor.

Several maids and butlers were standing at bay, and Caelum was sitting on the floor, looking bored.

Scorpius gasped when he saw him. “Caelum?”

Caelum looked up and nodded. “Yeah.”

“You can talk?” Tears flooded Scorpius’ eyes.

Caelum scowled. “I’m two. I’m not a baby.”

“No, you aren’t.” Scorpius’ lip trembled, and he looked away.

“Who are you?” Caelum asked, standing up. “You need a bath.” He trotted over to Hugo and grabbed the bottom of his cloak.

“I’m… I…” Scorpius was speechless, staring at the child. “I’m nobody.”

“Everybody’s somebody.” Caelum’s frown deepened.

“He’s your father, dear.” Hugo reached down to take Caelum’s hand.

“No.” Caelum insisted. “My daddy is at home.”

“Albus is home?” Scorpius backed away, looking at the tableau of family members with distrust.

“He doesn’t mean Albus,” James whispered.

“Albus is home?” Caelum copied Scorpius, looking up at James.

Scorpius made a series of strangled noises and continued backing away until he hit a wall. “Why does he say Albus?”

“He calls Rozrod Daddy.” James swallowed against the growing lump in his throat.

“Roz…” Scorpius’ eyes widened. “I’d forgotten about him.”

“Everyone does,” Hugo said sadly. “Except for Caelum, it seems.”

Scorpius was staring at Caelum with a strange combination of horror and wonder. “Can… Can I come say hello, Caelum?”

Caelum nodded and dashed up to Scorpius. “What’s your name?”

“It used to be Potter.”

“Like me?”

“Like you.” Scorpius swallowed roughly and knelt down to Caelum’s level. “You’re my son, you know.”

“No.”

“You’ve never met me before. You should have. I’m sorry.” His lip trembled, and Caelum reached out to touch his face. Scorpius tried fruitlessly to repress a sob.

“Why are you sad?”

“I’m sorry I left you.”

“You left me? Where?” Caelum’s face contracted with confusion.

“In China. On the day you were born.” Scorpius stroked a thumb under Caelum’s eyes. “Pretty.”

“I was born in China!” Caelum acknowledged, looking excited.

“I know. I was there.” Scorpius looked away. “You’re my son.”

“Am I?” Caelum looked more ready to accept it. “Why? I don’t know you.”

“I left you right after you were born.”

“Why?”

“I couldn’t handle it.”

“Why?”

“I loved your dad too much.”

“My daddy?”

“No.”

“Albus?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Caelum nodded, and stepped forward to wrap his arms around Scorpius. “Hello.”

Scorpius’ jaw fell open, and he stared wildly over Caelum’s shoulder. “He… Hello.” Tears were rolling down his face. “This shouldn’t be hello.” He looked desperately at James. “What do I do?”

“No idea. He’s your kid.”

Scorpius nodded, and hugged Caelum back. “It’s good to finally meet you.”

“Why’re you crying?”

“I wish I’d met you before.”

“Why?”

“I should have raised you.”

“Why?”

“It was my responsibility.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I hated your dad too much.”

“Daddy?”

“No.”

“Albus?”

“Yes.”

Caelum hummed, pulling out of the hug. “Wanna come over to my house?” He grabbed Scorpius’ hand.

“Yes, I do.” He stared at the hand clasped in his. “I should change clothes.”

“You don’t have shoes.”

“I know.”

“Why?”

“The place I was didn’t have shoes.”

“Why?”

“It was a very strange place.” Scorpius stood up, and Caelum dropped his hand.

“What place?”

“A forest.”

“You live in a forest? With bears?”

“Kinda,” he smirked. “This is my house.”

“Oh.” Caelum looked around. “It’s big.”

“It’s yours.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I’m giving it to you.” His eyes flickered between Hugo and James. “I’ll be right back.” He dashed off and up the stairs.

“Is he my dad?” Caelum tugged on James’ robes.

“Yeah, kid. He’s your dad.” James gazed in the direction Scorpius had disappeared.

Caelum grinned. “I have lots of dads.”

“You sure do,” Hugo laughed. “Most people only have one.”

“I have three.” Caelum punched James in the leg. “I win.”

“Rude,” James chastised. Caelum walked around the parlor, taking hold of anything he could and announcing how it was his. He did that quite often, but at that moment it was true.

When Scorpius came back down the stairs, he looked almost like himself. Aside from the exhaustion in his eyes and the bruises everywhere, he looked exactly how James remembered.

“Let’s go.”

They disapparated and appeared on the lawn of number 12.

Scorpius looked at the house with sheer terror. “What’s inside?”

“A fucking mess.” James stared at the house too, also not wanting to go in.

All three adults took a deep breath together and walked through the door. Everyday chaos, then everything froze.

 

*******

 

Albus couldn’t comprehend the sight. Scorpius was standing with his brother and cousin, holding his son’s hand. He felt as if he could pass out. He stabilized himself on the kitchen counter and mouthed nonsense mutely.

“Merlin, really?” Lily looked at Scorpius in disbelief.

Albus and Harry took a break from almost killing each other to stare blankly. Harry’s expression turned to one of rage, and Albus’ to horror.

“This is my dad!” Caelum introduced.

A chorus of I knows issued from the Potters and Weasleys.

Albus backed away. “I feel sick.”

“Yeah, me too.” Scorpius agreed. “Been a while.”

“Two entire fucking years.” Albus gripped the kitchen counter tightly, anger and resentment boiling in his stomach. “I have your son,” he spat.

“Rozrod has him, apparently.” Scorpius shot him a look of disdain.

“Don’t give me that look, at least I’ve been here!”

“He calls you Albus!”

“He calls you nothing!” Albus gaped at the hypocrisy. “Where the hell have you been, you look like shit.”

“I could say the same of you.”

The looked each other up and down, analyzing their injuries.

Albus stared at Scorpius’ bruised jaw and gulped. “That bad?”

“You have no idea. Him then?” He gestured with his head at Harry.

“Yeah.”

“Caelum’s been living in this?”

“Yeah.”

“You should have given him up.”

“I wanted to. From the day you left.”

Caelum was gazing at them, totally unaffected. Albus didn’t notice. He didn’t notice and didn’t even think about what he’d just said right in front of his son. Caelum was used to stuff like that.

“We didn’t need to have this baby after all,” Scorpius said, looking away.

“Not since I killed your dad.”

Scorpius’ fists clenched tight. “I shot to kill.”

“You did. Didn’t expect that.” The thought of that had plagued Albus’ nightmares ever since.

“So, we killed him. Together.” He looked back up, meeting Albus’ eyes. “You did what you thought was right.”

“Yeah. It was pretty fucked up, though.”

“Yeah. I could have killed anybody.”

“Didn’t think you had it in you. I was wrong.” Albus sighed. “You know what- Oh!” He looked at the stairs, remembering the letter. “I have something for you. From your dad.”

“My dad?”

“Upstairs, come on.”

They walked up together, anger temporarily forgotten. Albus’ room was a wreck. Broken things lay around the walls, and laundry was scattered everywhere. Albus walked across it, not caring. Scorpius followed suit. On the bedside table, a sealed letter. Albus picked it up carefully and handed it to Scorpius. He felt relieved. It wasn’t his responsibility anymore.

He watched Scorpius’ face carefully as he read the letter. Sadness beyond Albus’ comprehension stretched into every aspect of Scorpius’ body. He walked over slowly to sit on Albus’ bed as he read the letter.

Albus was burning with curiosity, but he couldn’t ask. It wouldn’t be right.

A moment later, Scorpius folded up the letter and stuck it in an inside pocket on his robe. He looked down and a few tears dropped from his eyes. When he looked up, he was perfectly composed. He stood up and walked over to Albus, who had no time to react before Scorpius leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips. When he pulled back, Albus was stunned. “What the hell was in that letter?”

“Beautiful things.” Scorpius wrapped his arms around Albus, who froze in shock, wondering whether he should hug back. They hated each other now, right? Right?

He hugged back, and they stood that way for a long time, two years of hurt and violence accepted by each other.

“I should have been there,” one of them said.

“Me too,” said the other.

 

*******

 

The ceiling of Albus’ room was stained, and some of the rafters were exposed where plaster had broken away. His bed was beyond soft, though, and he felt as if he could sink into it. There was heavy pressure on his chest and stomach. Albus lay on top of him, sound asleep. It had been strange. Not only was it the first time they’d done anything while Scorpius was in his right mind, but he still hated Albus with a flame that wouldn’t die. It was as if… Well, he’d almost felt compelled to. Even through the hate, it was good. Maybe because of it. It felt like pouring out his anger, and now he was relaxed, laying under the severely underweight body of Albus Potter. He traced the bruises along Albus’ arms and ribs. Worse on the ribs, maybe since they could be hidden. Lesions and abrasions on his back- who’d done that? Not Harry Potter, certainly. Right? There were horizontal scars along Albus’ hips, and Scorpius wondered if he’d done them to himself. That was a frightening thought, but he wouldn’t put it past him. Defence wounds- the ones on his arms. Maybe his back too? Along the outsides of his arms, he’d held his hands up for protection. Certainly, it wasn’t Harry Potter. At least not all of it. Maybe Albus had been fighting. Maybe he’d fallen in with a bad crowd. Scorpius couldn’t judge. His own body was peppered with bruises from falling, from being hit, from being sucked at. Someone had punched him in the jaw, and it still hurt. He couldn’t even remember what he’d been fighting about. Then, of course, the ring around his neck. Pretty telling. He was surprised Albus hadn’t asked. He rolled his head to Albus’ neck and sucked the point between his jaw and neck. No love. Just hatred. Lust.

With a moan, he realized Albus was still inside him. He sighed, pushing down on Albus’ hips until he hit the right spot. Albus stayed asleep. He reached under Albus’ stomach and lazily stroked himself, whispering in Albus’ ear.

“Would you notice if I took the baby?” He grunted softly, shutting his eyes. “If I took him home with me and relieved you of duty?” He pressed down on Albus’ hips rhythmically. “What if I took him away to the forest with me? Let him be raised free and school-less, learning life off the streets. I’ll give him to Carlo. He can have  _ four  _ dads.” He moaned, climbing higher as he thrust himself against his ex-best friend’s sleeping body. “Are you afraid of me now? Am I different than you hoped?” He was so close, he could feel it. “I wonder if I’m  _ your  _ Horcrux, Albus. Couldn’t I be? Why should it necessarily be  _ my  _ soul? Were were both murderers that day, are you inside my brain? Ngh, you’re inside…” Albus was getting hard, and he sighed quietly. Still asleep, though. Wet dream. “What if I’m your Horcrux?” The thought of that was enough to send him over the edge, and he forced himself to remain silent. Albus, still asleep, was rocking gently inside Scorpius until he came with a groan and promptly pulled out and rolled away.

Scorpius blinked, trying not to think. Paradox, right? Trying not to think. Nothing made sense anymore. It seemed like they’d all fallen apart. The Potters and the Malfoys alike. He bit his lip, realizing everything would have been better had he and Albus simply never met. Nobody would be in that situation, nobody would have gotten hurt. He probably shouldn’t have even been born. His parents would both still be alive. Or- his mother should have aborted him the second she found out he was a girl. That would have made things easier. Astoria would have died, but Draco and his hypothetical brother wouldn’t have. By virtue of his birth, he was a killer. It wasn’t Albus’ fault. Well- everything had sort of fallen into chaos due to him, but Scorpius had set the marbles on the top of the hill. Albus only had to push them.  _ Not thinking. I’m not thinking. _ Maybe he  _ had  _ been better with brain damage. He was certainly nicer.

Albus woke with a start, and rolled over to face Scorpius. “Oh. Hi.”

Yeah, that was about as much of a greeting as was due. “Hi.”

“That was weird. Let’s go get breakfast.” Albus stood up and pulled some clothes on. “This is gonna be hell, so try to stay cool.” He walked off down the stairs, bare feet slapping against the old wood.

“Mkay.” Scorpius stood up and searched for his clothes. He couldn’t find them, so he just pulled on something of Albus’.

 

*******

 

The first thing that was audible outside of Albus’ room were strings of profanity. Marching down the staircase, Albus saw James with some mixed race white and asian girl. She had her arms crossed around her ample chest, only accentuating her generous endowment.

She looked around as Albus and Scorpius walked down the stairs. “Morning, Malfoy.”

“Morning, James’ girlfriend.” Scorpius walked over to hide slightly behind Albus.

“Albus gets to have  _ his  _ boyfriend over! Why can’t I have Jodi?” He was crossing his arms just like her, and they both wore the same indignant scowl.

“It’s different, isn’t it?” Harry threw his arms out to the side, nearly knocking Lily in the head. “They can’t end up accidentally pregnant with some kid I’m gonna have to take care of.”

James laughed. “What the hell kinda memory?! They already have! You just think it’s different because you don’t think Albus and Scorpius’ relationship is as valid as mine. You can’t picture them as more than friends, can you?!” He gestured his arm back at Albus, almost hitting Lily again.

“We’re not even friends at all,” Albus piped up.

Scorpius rolled his eyes. “Hate to agree, but he’s right.”

“Stay out of this!” Harry turned his attention to Albus. “Why must you always pick fights?”

“I wasn’t!” Albus growled. “I was being honest!” He sighed, anticipating the rest of the morning. He couldn’t help himself. “Why don’t you deal with your own sexual frustration, Dad? I’m guessing Mum’s not giving you any, she hates your guts. We all do.”

Harry slammed a hand down on the counter and Albus jumped, anticipating violence. “Coming from you, hate-banging the absent dad of your fucked up son. Or, isn’t he Rozrod’s now? He doesn’t seem to realize you’re his father.”

“Well, I guess we  _ both  _ have sons we’d rather not!”

“Finally, we have some common ground!”

Albus was scowling coldly. He slowly stalked up to his father with some non-verbal protest for Scorpius and grabbed James by the hand, dragging him forward. “I’m your least favorite child, then? Right? Of course I am. Why isn’t it him, though? Because he just goes limp against your authoritarian parentage as of late? Is he too hard to catch? Am I just more  _ present?  _ Look at him, it’s eight in the morning and he’s fucked up. All I did was ask for help raising Caelum. Was that too much to ask? Were you already too burnt out by your burn-out son? Isn’t that  _ your  _ fault, dad?”

“Albus, back off,” Scorpius called out lowly, as if Albus were approaching some large, dangerous animal.

Something in that straightened Albus’ shoulders. He took a few steps back. “Draco Malfoy was a better father than you.”

Ah- yes. Back to a comfortable normal. Albus liked it. It felt good to vent out all his frustrations on his dad. It felt good to provoke him to the point of physical violence, because then his dad looked like the awful one every time. Albus was shoved bodily back into Scorpius’ arms. Harry was grabbing him tightly by the shoulder. Albus smirked. “Your dead father was a better parental role model than Lucius, and Draco  _ still  _ turned out better.” That was it. Pain blossomed through the bruises already covering the sides of his ribs. He gasped- fatherly affection, that’s what it was to him at that point. “Love you too, Dad.” He stood up, pulling himself free from Scorpius’ support. “I’m gonna grab some breakfast and go eat in my room with Scorpius. Then maybe I’ll make sure my ribs aren’t broken again. Any objections?”

“Do what you want as long as you get out of here.”

“Wonderful. Just a tic, then, and you won’t see me the rest of the day.” Albus walked gingerly into the kitchen, filling two plates with food.

“I wish you were still in Poland.”

Albus grinned. “You and me both. Scorpius was rather more complacent as well.”

“Oi!”

“You were.” Albus looked at him over his shoulder. “Isn’t that the lesson we all seem to be taught again and again? Only people out of their minds are happy. You were. Plus, look how much your life has gone to shit since you’ve gotten smart again. S’why James is the only one here who’s not drowning.”

“Yep.” James leaned against a counter, slow smile spreading across his face. “Mkay, Al, Imma go to work. Good luck today.” He grabbed Jodi’s hand and pulled her out of the room quickly. He was probably glad to have the attention diverted from himself.

Rozrod and Helena strode down the stairs.

“Oh, hey Scorpius.” Rozrod waved tiredly. “Member me?”

“Just barely.” Scorpius took his plate of food as Albus handed it to him.

Helena was bounding excitedly. “I’m pregnant!”

“Fuck!” everyone in the room announced at the same time.

“Why?” Albus gaped at her. “Why the hell,  _ why?” _

“I wanted a baby!” She frowned at him.

“You already  _ have  _ a baby!” Albus looked to Scorpius for support.

“No,  _ you  _ have a baby,” Rozrod cut in, scowling. “And he’s two, it’s not so strange to have another.”

“Hi!” Caelum dashed in, grabbing a piece of toast and shoving the whole thing in his mouth.

“That’s  _ my  _ baby.” Scorpius walked over to Caelum. “Right?”

Caelum nodded, crumbs falling out of his mouth.

“What kinda weird brain will your baby have?” Albus asked rhetorically.

“What kinda weird brain does your boyfriend have, Albus?” Rozrod scowled.

“I’m a Horcrux,” Scorpius said, grinning.

“Riddle baby,” Hugo muttered from the couch.

“Yep.” Scorpius sounded almost proud. “Except it’s my own soul bit, so it’ll probably just die when I do.”

Rozrod stared at Scorpius for a long moment. “It could be Albus’. That’s what you’re thinking.”

Albus’ eyebrows shot up. “What now?”

Scorpius shook his head and scowled. “I don’t need that anymore, Grindelwald.”

Rozrod ignored him. “He could be your Horcrux, Albus.

“Could you tell?”

“No.” Rozrod wrapped a hand around Helena’s hips. “You’re both so wound up in each other anyway, does it really matter? You two go insane when you don’t have each other. Stop fighting, it’s just making things worse.”

Albus gulped, considering the implications of that. It couldn’t be true, right? His soul couldn’t have latched onto Scorpius. It couldn’t have done.

“But it could do, though,” Rozrod answered, annoyingly. “Horcruxes can kinda just latch onto things if you don’t control them properly. Was Scorpius in any state of mind to do that? Or was he just muttering incantations to make himself more open to becoming a Horcrux?”

“I’d bet the latter.” Harry stepped forwards. “When that happened to me, Riddle never intended to do it. It just sort of happened. Not that it necessarily means he’s Albus’ Horcrux, but it’s not impossible.”

Albus’ heart was pounding wildly. “What could that mean, then?”

Harry hummed. “Well… I could speak Parseltongue. It gives you certain qualities of the other person. I could read his mind.”

Instinctively, Albus and Scorpius clasped hands. “So…” Albus breathed.

“Right.” Rozrod looked solemn. “Literal soul bond.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel bad about Carlo, even though he's an OC.
> 
> Although... I guess I have lots of OCs at this point. Rozrod, Caelum, Helena, Jodi, Carlo... then more just little ones. I've never done so many before.


	21. All In Your Head

Calamity. Every morning the ceiling shattered and the floor vibrated with throat-tearing yells from downstairs. A regularly set wake-up call. Number 12 was full to the brim with residents, and Helena was close to having one more. Every morning, Scorpius woke up feeling sick to his stomach as he let the energy of the house consume what was left of his soul. He and Albus sat in bed, silent camaraderie against the hurricane below. Through their hatred of each other, that was the time they felt close.

“Breakfast!” Ginny called.

Albus and Scorpius didn’t answer. Scorpius wasn’t sure he could face the morning just yet, and Albus seemed to feel the same. Also, the second they stepped out of bed, their resentment towards each other would come rushing back, and Scorpius wasn’t ready to let that happen.

The rapid pitter-patter of little feet came dashing up the stairs, and Caelum- now three- threw the door open.

“Get your lazy arses out of bed and come eat breakfast with everyone else!” He grinned at them, not knowing what he was saying.

“Just a minute, mate.” Albus stared over his head out the door, where things were already visibly awful.

“Right fucking now!” Caelum ran forward and jumped on the bed. “Albus, we’ve got pancakes.”

“Mhm.” Albus ruffled his hair. “Sounds good, but we need a minute.”

Caelum rolled his eyes. “Grandpa said I had to get you out of bed. He says that whatever you two are so busy doing, I gotta go disrupt it.”

“Grandpa says a lot of stuff.” Albus rubbed his eyes. “We’ve got pancakes, then?”

“Yeah!” Caelum snuggled up between them. “I already ate one.”

“Did you, now?” Scorpius wrapped an arm around Caelum’s shoulders. “Then maybe we don’t need to have breakfast with you, right?”

Caelum punched him in the gut, and Scorpius grimaced. Caelum pulled on his arms. “Go, go, go.”

Scorpius sighed, rolling out of bed. He pulled on some random assortment of clothing, and Albus did the same. “Give us a minute, alright?” Scorpius nudged Caelum’s back. “We’re going to wash up for the day. Tell Grandpa.”

Caelum nodded and dashed off down the stairs.

Albus ran a hand through his hair, not bothering to even try to make it lie flat. “Well, that’s just fucking depressing, isn’t it?”

“We’ve never hit him,” Scorpius reminded, dragging a brush through his hair. “He’ll be okay.”

“Will he be, though?” Albus spoke through a mouth full of toothpaste. “He hit you.”

“He’s small.”

“He won’t always be.”

Scorpius shook it off, preferring not to think about it. “Why don’t you go deal with your own shitty family, Albus?” The spell was broken.

 _“You’re_ my shitty family, Scorpius. We chose each other.”

“Worst decision of my life.”

“Agreed.”

They finished washing and trudged down the stairs, already beyond annoyed with each other.

“Where in the hell have you two been?” Harry scowled at them.

“Asleep, mostly.” Albus didn’t even bother looking up.

Dazedly, Scorpius took a seat at the table, grabbing a couple pancakes and drowning them in syrup.

“Hate-banging,” Caelum rolled his eyes, imitating Harry perfectly.

“Wonder how much of that he understands,” Scorpius muttered, filling his mouth with food so he didn’t have to talk.

Albus took a seat next to him. “Way too much.” He filled his plate in a similar fashion to Scorpius, and ate with obsessive intention.

James came stumbling down the stairs, leaning heavily on the handrail for support. Jodi followed him, baby bump almost as big as Helena’s. “Caelum hit me. Why?”

“It’s breakfast!” Caelum dashed over to him and tugged him down the stairs. James groaned as he attempted to follow at the same pace as the energetic three year old.

James took a seat next to Albus, staring blankly at the table. “Fuck me.”

Rozrod stared at him from across the room for a long while. He walked over to take a seat at the table as well. “Worst decision of your life, James.”

“Fuck off.” He dragged a plate over, putting some food on it before grimacing and pushing it away.

Jodi sat next to him, and he rested his head on her shoulder. She stroked his hair. “It’ll be alright.”

“No, it won’t,” Rozrod interjected. “He’ll never be alright again.”

Scorpius was beyond caring at that point. He was counting down the years until Caelum went to Hogwarts. Eight. Eight years. The last straw was set when Lily left. They hadn’t seen any sign of her since she started working for St. Mungo’s. Eight years, and he’d have some serious decisions to make.

 

*******

 

Everything was a forest of legs. Dashing through legs, dodging legs, trying not to get hit by the swinging arms of parents and grandparents. Somebody grabbed his hand. Who?

Hugo! “Hi.” Caelum grinned up at him.

“Hey, bud. Wanna go have a walk?” He had a hat. He always had a hat. Caelum wanted one.

“Yeah. Can I wear your hat?” Hugo nodded, putting it Caelum’s head where it flopped down over his eyes. Holding hands. They held hands. Caelum had to trot faster. Faster than Hugo- someday he’d have long legs too. “Where are we going?”

“Thought you might like to pop down to the shops and get yourself some new clothes.” He smiled. Warm smile. Caelum liked it.

“Why?”

“Your clothes are a wreck.” Hugo looked sad. Sad. Why?

“Why?”

“Your daddies never change you.” He shook his head, looking angry. Angry. Why?

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know.” Hugo shut his eyes as they walked a bit farther down the street.

He didn’t know? No, that’s not right. He’s a grown-up. Grown-ups know.

“Why?”

“I just don’t, bud. I don’t know everything.”

Shock. “Really?”

“Really. If I did, I’d tell you.” He stopped looking at Caelum. Why? Why didn’t he look?

Caelum tugged on his robes. “Hugo. Hugo. Hugo.”

“What’s that, mate?” He smiled, but it looked wrong. His face smiled, but his mind didn’t.

Caelum didn’t quite know what he was asking for. He quickly thought of a question. “Where’s Rose?”

Hugo opened his mouth, but no words came out. Why? “I don’t know.”

Caelum was frustrated. “What _do_ you know?”

“Far less than I don’t.”

Caelum was silent for a while, picking apart that sentence until he understood. “Okay. Can we get cakes?”

“You just ate.”

“I’m hungry again.”

“You’re always hungry.”

“I’m a goddamn abused infant!” That’s what people said when other people wouldn’t give Caelum what he wanted. He figured it was appropriate.

Hugo stopped walking. Why? “You shouldn’t say that.”

Caelum felt instantly guilty. “Why?”

“It’s not a nice thing to say. It makes people upset.” Hugo knelt down. Shorter. Caelum’s height. Caelum was in charge, then.

“The world’s not a nice place, Hugo.”

That seemed to stick. Hugo’s expression shifted. He looked… sad. Sad. Why? “Would you like to stay with Great-Grandmama for a few days?”

Yes! Great! She was nice. She smelled like cookies. She was calm and sweet and she smiled all the time. She was quiet. “Yeah! Yeah!”

Hugo nodded. “Okay, mate. Good. Let’s get you some new clothes, then we’ll head over.”

Caelum beamed. So happy. So happy. Wow. “Okay, Hugo. Let’s go.”

 

*******

 

 _Wish I’d never had kids._ Harry.

 _Fuck fuck fuck fuck._ James.

 _Albus? He’s touching me. Why’s he touching me?_ Scorpius.

 _Hate-banging. Ha. Poor kid. Sounds fun, though._ Albus.

 _It’ll be okay. We’re having a baby, Caelum’s growing up. Calm down, you look frightened._ Helena.

 _Shit. Caelum. That’s so… Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Let’s get him outside. He’s covered in stains, does he ever wash?_ Hugo.

 _I hope he lives. I want him to raise this baby._ Jodi.

 _Eight more years._ Ginny.

 _Eight more years._ Scorpius.

 _I’m really angry. Why am I angry? Albus is sad. Look- Daddy’s sad. Everyone’s sad. Why? Everyone’s always sad._ Caelum.

 _You look sad. Caelum knows._ Helena.

 _I feel sick. This hurts. Am I gonna die?_ James.

 _Please, just be healthy for a little while. I want you to raise this baby._ Jodi.

 _Mummy’s scared. Mummy’s scared._ Jodi’s baby.

 _Everybody’s yelling._ Helena’s baby.

 _Shit, I’m gonna puke._ James.

 _He’s standing up. Should I follow him? No._ Jodi.

 _Fuck Albus and Scorpius and Harry. Fuck them. I’m taking Caelum._ Hugo.

 _Hugo? He’s walking towards me. I like his hat. Hugo._ Caelum.

 _Maybe it would be better to break this family apart now. Albus and Scorpius to Malfoy Manor, Hugo to the Burrow, Rozrod and Helena… somewhere, James and Jodi to their own homes. I’ll leave. I’ll find my own place. Harry can keep number twelve. Rose- Rose is gone, Lily’s gone. I don’t care, let’s all leave each other._ Ginny.

 _Ngh- he’s so fucking gorgeous. I hate him. Do I? Yes. Mm… Come upstairs with me._ Albus.

 _Why the hell is he touching me? I don’t like it._ Scorpius.

 _This is stupid. I’m staying in here._ Helena’s baby.

 _Mummy’s hungry._ Jodi’s baby.

 _Walk? Yes. Maybe cakes. Yum._ Caelum.

 _Ah- I need to leave the room or stop thinking about Scorpius._ Albus.

 _He stopped touching me. Why?_ Scorpius.

 _He makes me so angry. He does it on purpose. Why is everyone upset with me?_ Harry.

Rozrod looked away, unable to take any more. Helena wrapped her arms around him, and he put his hand to her rounded stomach.

 _Daddy. I can hear him._ His son.

 _I can hear you too._ Rozrod smiled.

_Hello._

_It’s nice to meet you._

“He can read minds,” Rozrod told Helena.

“I know.” She smiled.

“Of course you do.” He smiled back at her, so deeply in love.

 

*******

 

The walls of Malfoy Manor echoed, only amplifying the sound of yelling.

“You were supposed to take care of him!” Scorpius was directly in Albus’ face, on the verge of tears.

“You should have been there to help me!” Albus shoved him away, burning with rage.

“I fucked up! I know! But you were there and your whole family fell apart. Because of _you!”_

“My family _never_ liked me! All this shit was a long time coming, and I wanted to give him away!”

“Everything you touch turns to shit, Albus. Why do you never take responsibility?! Everything is always someone else’s fault, you’ve been the perfect saint, right?!”

“Right!”

“Let’s give him away, then! Let’s give him to some random couple and they’ll almost certainly be better than us.”

“Draw a random couple out of anyone on earth and they’d be better than us.”

Scorpius shook his head, walking away. “Why do we still have this fight?”

“He’s getting worse.”

Scorpius collapsed on one of many couches and pressed his hands into his eyes. “I just wish… I wish I still loved you.”

That hit Albus’ heart hard. “I wish we were seventeen and could try this all over again.”

“I wish we still had the time turner.”

“I wish you were still retarded.”

“Me too.”

Albus strode over to sit next to Scorpius, taking his hand. “I _do_ still love you, you know.”

“Please stop.”

“I can’t.”

Scorpius didn’t know what to say. He’d wondered- Albus was still so angry with him. He still had so much rage and energy. Scorpius was mostly apathetic. It made sense that Albus still felt that kind of love. He hadn’t been allowed to let it out those two years they were apart. Scorpius had. He’d violently taken out all his love on anyone who would accept it. “Maybe we should stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop sleeping together. Stop having sex. I don’t think it’s good for you.” Scorpius tried to keep his heart cold.

Albus was at a loss for words. That was the last thing he’d expected to hear. “Stop?”

“I think you should find someone else.” Fear drained through Scorpius’ jaw. He liked what they had, but it wasn’t fair to keep it going if it had that much imbalance.

Albus pulled his hand out of Scorpius’, staring at his lap. Paper cup. Heavy foot. Crushed. “I don’t want anyone else.” Hatred died instantly. If it was going to end, it was going to end hard. Not in anger. It could never be so simple. “Can we… eight more years?”

Scorpius considered. “I don’t think that’s good. Setting an end date. We’ll only resent each other more.”

Albus reached out, but didn’t touch him. “Will… will you pretend for me? Like I did for you all those years ago? Just for a second?”

Honestly, Scorpius didn’t remember a time in which that had ever happened, but it didn’t really matter. “Do you think that’s safe?”

Albus’ hands were still poised to land on Scorpius’ shoulder, but he couldn’t. “Probably not. I’m gonna cry.”

“I’m not.”

Albus pulled his hands away. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“Sitting in your compartment on the train.”

“I’m not.” Scorpius wrung his hands together, struggling to be both honest and tactful. “I think we were good for each other. For a long time. For seven years.” He looked up at Albus but immediately turned away, not wanting to see his broken expression. “And… I don’t know if we’ll ever be good for each other again, but I don’t regret everything we shared.”

Albus stared at him blankly for a long time, trying to memorize everything about him. He didn’t have to. Scorpius was already there. “I don’t want to hear that.”

“Do you want me to be angry?”

“Yes.” Albus struggled to keep his composure. “But I want you to love me more.”

Scorpius shut his eyes tight, genuinely trying to find any sort of spark- anything that would keep him from leaving. There was plenty there, but none of it was enough. “I’m going to be sad, Albus. I’ll always miss you. But I really just want both of us to be happy, and I think this relationship is too far gone.”

Albus nodded. “Okay. Okay.” He leaned his head against Scorpius’ shoulder and wrapped his arms around him, trying to put every bit of love he would ever have into that one embrace.

_He’s going away, this is the last time. I’ll never see him again, I love him so much, what am I going to do?!_

Scorpius’ jaw dropped. “Wait-”

_I wanna give Caelum to Rozrod and move in here with him and have another baby and not fuck it up like we did last time._

“Albus…” Glowing love filled his heart, but it was strange. He couldn’t explain it. “What are you doing?”

 _What am I doing? I’m saying good bye. DEPRESSION AND GRIEF. Gods, I can’t do this. I can’t do this alone._ “Just… I’m sorry, I just wanted to say goodbye.”

Scorpius muttered to himself. “Why now? After three years, why now?”

“Why do I say goodby now? You’re leaving.” Albus let go, but the strange emotions stayed.

“No, no. I can…”

_What’s he talking about? Could I use this to make him stay? Is he hesitant? What should I do?_

“It’s not that I’m hesitant, it’s that-” Scorpius’ eyes widened, realizing he’d spoken aloud.

Albus moved away quickly. “Did you-?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re my Horcrux, then?”

“Guess so.”

“What do we do?”

“Doesn’t change anything.” Scorpius stood, and tried to walk away. With every step he took, his heart filled more with love and pain. He grimaced. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing!”

Squaring his jaw, Scorpius took a few more steps away, pain growing worse. He had only touched the door handle before he could move no more. His chest was burning and his head was screaming. “Stop it!”

“What am I supposed to be doing?!” Albus was genuinely confused. He had no idea what Scorpius was even talking about.

It hurt. It really really hurt. Emotional pain that was bordering on physical. _Why is this happening now?_

“I don’t know! Maybe because you’re leaving!”

Scorpius froze, pain disappearing like smoke. “I didn’t say that out loud.”

“Mm?” Albus stood up. “Oh, I can read your mind too?” _Why is this happening now?_

“Because I’m leaving.”

“Three years, though.”

“One year I never wanted to come back. I understand now, but why not then?” Scorpius ran a hand through his hair, making it stand on end.

“I thought you’d come back.”

“You did?” Scorpius was surprised. He’d never honestly thought about what Albus might have been feeling. He just hadn’t cared.

“Ouch.”

“Stop listening.”

“I can’t!”

“Stop caring.”

“I _can’t!”_ Albus hid his head in his hands. “What does this mean?”

“I have to stay.”

“Can we fix this, then? Our relationship?” Hope. Hope. Hope.

Scorpius thought about it, trying to figure out the future. He grinned. “Hate-banging… is that really what we’ve been doing?” He laughed despite himself. “I can’t believe people keep saying that.”

“Are you changing the subject?” Albus squinted at him.

“A bit, yeah.” Scorpius smiled. “I dunno if we can fix it. But I guess we have no choice but to try.”

 

*******

 

“Dunno how… how I’ve fucked up so bad after all this… all this shit in the family, did I do that? My dad hates me. _I_ hate me. Do you hate me? You should hate me. I’m an embarrassment. Why can’t I be strong? I’m supposed to be strong. I don’t wanna die from this, but it makes living here bearable, you know? Lily’s gone- what do I do? I needed her to save me, but she’s gone and she’s saving everyone else, but she can’t save me anymore. And she can’t save Albus, and Albus keeps getting hurt, and I don’t even think it’s dad anymore, those bruises are too deep to be dad’s, he never hit him that hard. I don’t know what he’s doing, and Lily can’t help him, and she’s the smartest and the best of us. Of my siblings I mean, I’m not counting you. And my nephew’s starting to take on traits of all this dysfunction, and I don’t want _our_ baby to live in that. You know? I think we should leave.”

Jodi sighed. “Can we just- can we talk about this later, man? Like, when you’re not currently penetrating me?”

James nodded distractedly. “Sure. Yeah, okay.”

 

*******

 

Rozrod looked up sharply from the couch, where he sat reading a book. Helena laughed excitedly.

Albus and Scorpius had just apparated back, with looks of horror on both their faces.

“For real? How do you know?” Rozrod gaped at them.

 _He read my mind._ -Albus

 _Yeah, I did._ -Scorpius

 _I read his, too._ -Albus

_Also this hurts a lot, so we can’t…_

_We can’t separate._

“What’s going on?” Ginny walked into the room, looking concerned.

Albus and Scorpius were staring at her like slack jawed idiots, so Rozrod stepped in. “Scorpius is Albus’ Horcrux.”

A slow smile spread across Ginny’s face.

“It isn’t funny!” Albus protested.

“No, it’s not.” She shook her head seriously, but her smile remained. “It’s very very unfunny. I don’t know what you’ll do.”

Cognitive feedback loop. Their thoughts built louder until they couldn’t hear. Rozrod pressed his palms to his temples, grimacing.

 _Daddy, fix it!_ -Helena’s baby

 _I can’t! It’s them!_ -Rozrod

 _Scorpius, stop!_ -Albus

 _I can’t! What’s happening?!_ -Scorpius

 _Stop thinking! Stop fucking thinking! -_ Rozrod

 _What is this?_ -Helena’s baby

Feelings were building, too. Albus gasped, struggling not to scream.

Scorpius wrapped his arms over his head, like the sky was falling.

The whole family was creeping into the room, watching curiously. It must have looked strange from the outside.

Harry’s eyes widened.

“He relates,” Helena said, pointing at Harry.

“I wish I’d never come home! I wish I was back in the forest!” Albus screamed.

“Don’t leave me in this shit! I love you, don’t leave me!” Scorpius sobbed.

“I want my dad!” Albus cried, burying his head in his hands.

“For the first time in my entire life, I want to go back to Hogwarts.” Scorpius dragged his hands through his hair, scratching his nails against his scalp.

Gasping against the pressure in their skulls, they bound themselves together tightly.

Everything calmed.

“Merlin, thank you. Finally.” Rozrod collapsed back on the couch, putting a hand over Helena’s belly. “It’s okay now.”

 _I didn’t like that,_ the baby cried.

“He’s upset,” Helena informed.

_Can I come out, now?_

Rozrod looked at Helena’s stomach in amazement. “Do you want to?”

“He’s ready.” Helena’s eyes widened.

_I’m done in here._

“Mm… this is gonna hurt.” Helena grimaced, anticipating.

 

********

 

Yarin Grindelwald. Malandria Potter. They stared at each other as if baffled by the existence of the other.

All the parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents were compressed into the parlor of Number 12, staring at the babies with the same sort of expression the babies had for each other.

Harry tried counting everyone. It was chaos.

Newt, Rolf, Luna, Lysander, Lorcan, Theseus, and Porpentina Scamander; Xenophilius Lovegood; and Helena and Rozrod Grindelwald.

Molly, Arthur, George, Angelina, Fred II, Roxanne, Percy, Audrey, Dominique, Louis, Charlie, Bill, Ron, Hermione, Hugo, Rose, and Fleur Weasley.

Harry, Ginny, James, Jodi, Albus, Caelum, Scorpius, and Lily Potter.

Gabrielle, Apolline, and Monsieur Delacour.

Cho and Henry Arke.

Teddy and Victoire Lupin.

Forty two people crowding two babies. Forty four. People were pouring out into the hallways, struggling to get through the crowd.

“My god, I’m a grandmother.” Cho clutched her husband in horror.

“Don’t worry, I still love you,” Henry laughed, patting her head.

The entire Lovegood, Scamander, and Grindelwald family squinted at Yarin with identical studious expressions.

“We’ll need to protect him from heights and northern winds,” Luna said, her entire family nodding along with her.

Harry was staring in utter confusion at the overwhelming crowd of relatives. “I need a guidebook to all of you. Someone draw up a family tree, I can’t keep track anymore.”

Mrs. Weasley was holding James in a vice grip, sobbing. “I’m so happy for you!”

Harry backed up against the wall, color draining from his face. He grabbed Ginny’s hand. “Nobody have anymore babies! Everyone stop getting married!”

“Well…” Teddy smirked.

Bill and Fleur’s heads snapped to Victoire instantly. She looked down at her shoes. “Too late.”

Mrs. Weasley sobbed harder.

It was a moment of family unity. Everything was forgotten. Every fight, every heartbreak, every broken soul healed.

“I have way too many family members,” Albus whispered, holding Scorpius tight so they didn’t get knocked over.

_And I too few._

Albus looked at him guiltily. “We’ll be okay, right? We’ll be okay.”

Scorpius nodded. “Yeah. We’ll be fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really nearing the end, now. Only a couple more loose ends. Right?


	22. I am with you

The Department of International Relations. A department in the ministry dedicated to the exchange of knowledge, and maintenance of peace within the Wizarding World. Albus had applied and been hired almost immediately after leaving China. More than his NEWT scores (of course), the head of the department was interested in his story. He’d traveled around the world, through various Wizarding communities, learning things nobody expected. They hired him as a journalist for the information he already had. The training had been intensive. He needed a strong understanding of economics, political science, foreign cultures, and foreign languages. He spoke two passably well (Spanish, Russian), and two more with vague, basic understanding (French, Arabic). Then… Well, English. It was more about the gesture of trying to speak the native language of whatever country or community he was visiting than it was about actual communication; he took an interpreter.

Somalia was… Not Albus’ favorite place to go. He’d been asked to do reports on the country once a week and civil unrest caused large, and often random outbreaks of violence. The Wizarding community was even worse. It wasn’t the most war-torn or destroyed country Albus had visited by a long shot, but it was certainly one of the more hair-triggered countries he’d been asked to report on. Albus had been dragged into protests and riots a total of four times, and it was starting to hurt. As of that particular day… five times. A rubber bullet slammed into his side, and he nearly passed out. “What in the hell?!” They were outside the Turkish embassy, and Albus genuinely didn’t know what the riot was about. He really hoped Wizards weren’t involved so he could leave, but green sparks and walls of magical protection destroyed any hope of that. Somalia was an interesting case study. Recently, Wizards had made themselves known to the Muggle world. It was certainly a threat to the secrecy of every other country, but it was interesting nonetheless. Someone wrapped an arm around Albus’ waist and pulled him out of the way as clouds of tear gas erupted in his vicinity.

“Aw,  _ what?!”  _ Albus was beyond his limit. Non-lethal weapons weren’t necessarily that. He’d seen someone die.

“Stay to the back!” Ah- the interpreter. Albus hadn’t bothered to learn his name.

“Can we just… call it a night or something?” Ominous loud crash. “I really don’t intend to die for this.”

“We need to stay for the address,” the interpreter called over the chaos. “We need to see what they’ll say.”

Pillars of orange flame shot into the air. “Dammit!” Albus stumbled back. “This sucks!”

The President, towering over the chaos from a platform above it all. Ha- metaphor. He spoke in Arabic to the crowd, and Albus’ interpreter leaned close to make his voice audible.

The president spoke in support of the people- in support of the Shilling, which had crashed to destruction. In support of eliminating taxes on essential foods. In support of international aid. The people still screamed. Justifiably. The government is a shell. This country is run by vigilantes and criminals. Free market is killing us. There is no justice.

Albus listened to the whole thing, trying to remain at a cool distance. It was easy to do since he got to go home that night and eat dinner with his family and sleep in his own bed with no fear of harm. The riots would rage through the night. He’d go home at one in the morning and collapse on the couch, drained of everything that made him human.

“What the hell happened to you?” His dad was standing in the doorframe, trying to scowl through the concern that was evident in his posture.

Albus groaned, pushing himself up. Everything hurt. “Somalia.”

Harry hesitated before walking forward to check on him. He flicked his wand at the lamps, lighting up the room. He closed his eyes, looking frustratedly at the state of his son. “You know people blame me for that.”

Albus struggled to repress the anger burning in his chest. “I’m so sorry for you. That must be awful. Not all of these bruises are due to you- that’s so unfair.”

“I  _ never  _ hit you that hard.”

“You should never hit me at all!” Albus turned away, unable to face the fight he was about to get himself into. He wished he’d stayed in Somalia.

“You could get rid of them, you  _ are  _ a wizard, remember? What’s the point of this protest? Why do you insist on keeping these injuries?” He tried to reach out to touch Albus’ shoulder, but he pulled away.

“I want you to know what’s happening to me, and I want them to keep you away from me.”

“That’s childish.”

“It’s all I can do!” Albus bit back the insults on his tongue. He wanted to sleep. He’d been getting sick so often as of late; stress, injury, and lack of sleep destroying his immune system in a systematic attack against his quality of life. “Nobody believes a word I say anymore, so I need hard evidence to back it up.” His throat felt tight. Boiling anger, or he was getting sick again. “I’m gonna move out, Dad. The second that becomes a possibility for me.”

“What will you do with Caelum?”

Yeah. Caelum. That was the primary reason for staying together. Caelum and Malandria and Yarin. Moving out would mean breaking up their little family, and they were too tangled up with each other to do that. Moving out would mean taking Rozrod and Helena and Yarin with them, and taking Yarin away from Malandria or taking James and Jodi with them. At that point, why not just stay? Only Harry and Ginny would be left behind, and Yarin and Malandria depended on Ginny to take care of them during the day while Rozrod and Helena were out. The only reason to leave would be to separate Albus from Harry. Pretty solid argument there.

“Yeah. Caelum.” Albus shut his eyes, stress and anxiety tearing his muscles like vigorous exercise. He turned his head to the floor, coughing violently. “I can’t do this now. I need to sleep.”

“You could take potions for that too. You keep getting sick.”

“They don’t work anymore.” Albus sighed. He’d built up a tolerance. If he took anything anymore, it just made things worse. “I’m going upstairs.” He shoved past his dad and climbed up the steps slowly, every step hurting.

“You’re just finding ways to make this harder for yourself,” Harry called after him.

“Mkay,” Albus responded tiredly. It was too much. He couldn’t fight anymore. He needed to sleep. He wanted to be alone. Although-

“You’re home late.” Scorpius was still awake, spreadsheets and papers scattered around him as he scratched frantic notes onto a piece of parchment. He didn’t look up.

“What are you doing?”

Scorpius ran his fingers through his hair, groaning in frustration. “Running the Turkish government, apparently. Didn’t ask to. Just sort of happened.”

Albus didn’t even question it. Whatever Scorpius did with whatever business or political empire his family had set up generations back, Albus wanted nothing to do with it. “Could you move some of that to your desk maybe? Or all of it? I need to sleep.”

Scorpius looked up from his work, eyeing Albus’ disheveled appearance. “Could you shower?”

Albus looked down at himself and nodded. He sighed. “Why can’t you do this at Malfoy Manor?”

Scorpius went back to whatever nonsense he was doing. “It’s full of refugees.”

“It’s what?”

“I took in a bunch of refugees.” Scorpius waved him off. “Go shower.”

“No, that’s actual news.” Albus sat on the edge of the bed. “What refugees?”

“A bunch of muggles. Various Middle Eastern countries, mostly. Near…” He looked up, counting. “About a thousand, I think. Not just in the main mansion, also all over the grounds and the servants’ quarters. Also I got rid of all the servants, so now there’s just a bunch of volunteers coming in everyday.”

“A thousand?!”

“Yeah, as many as I could fit. There’s a lot of room. I feel bad that the accommodations aren’t equal, but I did my best.”

Albus’ eyes couldn’t quite focus. He’d not heard Scorpius mention anything before, and that was… kind of a big deal. “How did you manage…?”

“Deal with the British government. Took a lot of doing, but they were unable to say no in the end,” he responded vaguely. “I’m trying to get them dual citizenship, but I’m not sure that’s gonna happen. I’ve already asked for my limit.”

“Why would you do that? Why would you… I mean, why would you take in so many?” Albus’ stunned expression must have confused Scorpius, because he stared at Albus in silence for a long moment.

“Why wouldn’t I? It’s all mine, now, I can help whoever I want. Also, I thought it would piss off my grandfather. Not sure if he’s still alive, but if he is, I bet I can give him a heart attack.”

Albus smiled, deep love overcoming the exhaustion and anger at his dad.

Scorpius rolled his eyes.  _ Glad I could do you proud. _

Albus moved to sit next to him on the bed.  _ Do you love me yet? _

_ Trying to. _

_ I think you’re amazing. _

They had practiced making the telepathy path open, even though neither intended to leave. It had taken some doing, but they’d managed it.

“Where were you today?” Scorpius poked him in the side, and Albus struggled not to cry out in pain.

“Somalia.”

“Riots?” Scorpius’ eyes flickered down to Albus’ ribcage.  _ You hurt yourself. _

“Rubber bullet.”

“Hm.” Scorpius scrubbed his palms into his eyes and gathered up his papers. He put them gently into a stack on the bedside table. “Are you not going to shower?”

“Probably not, no.”

“If I got in with you?”

“Oh, then absolutely.”

 

*******

 

The next morning at breakfast, everyone was staring at Albus, and Harry was sitting with his head in his hands. Nobody was asking what had happened. They all made their own assumptions, and- Albus suspected- most of them had come to the same horrible conclusion. Albus never corrected them. Fear of repercussion was the only thing that kept his dad from actually getting violent. James, Jodi, Ginny, Hugo, Hermione, and Ron likely suspected the same thing. The only ones who knew what was actually going on were Helena, Rozrod, and Scorpius, but none of them said anything.

_ Do you agree with me then?  _ Albus asked nobody in particular.

_ I agree with the fact that it’s working, but it is a little sociopathic,  _ Scorpius answered.

Rozrod nodded. “I think it’s good,” he whispered. “For now.”

Helena nodded at Rozrod.

_ Do you think it’s necessary?  _ Albus looked at Rozrod.  _ What’s he thinking? What would be the consequences if I told the truth? _

Rozrod considered, and wrote something on a notepad, passing it to Albus under the table.  _ It’s making him angry. This may be a cause and effect issue, but I remember how it was when there was actual violence. If this prevents it, then keep it up. If it does wind up in violence, it’s going to be much much worse than it ever has been. _

Scorpius nodded, having read the note through Albus’ head.  _ I don’t think it’s a permanent solution. _

Albus sighed.  _ Yeah. He was pretty steamed last night. _

_ What’s the worst he’s actually hit you?  _ Scorpius set down his fork, looking at Albus seriously.

Albus thought about it.  _ Throwing stuff. He gave me concussions a few times, remember? Throwing stuff. _

_ But when he’s actually laid hands on you? _

_ Nothing more than a few bruises.  _ Albus shrugged.  _ None of these are his. _

Helena reached across the table, taking Albus’ hand. “We’ll figure out a better way.”

_ You gotta stop trying to piss him off,  _ Scorpius warned.  _ Be nice. _

Albus scowled.  _ Why should I? _

Helena gestured to Caelum.

Right. The kids. The absolute worst consequence was that Caelum, Yarin, and Malandra were growing up in an environment that made this kind of stuff seem normal.

As if to prove a point, Caelum slammed his hand against the table. “Dad, pass the goddamn maple syrup!”

Rozrod sighed, turning to the child. “Say it nicely.”

Caelum rolled his eyes. “Dad, pass the gosh-damn maple syrup.”

Rozrod inhaled, picking his battles. “Slightly better.” He slid the maple syrup across the table.

“Mkay.” Caelum kicked his feet under his chair.

Rozrod kept staring, looking like he was trying to say something. “You know those two are your dads, right? Not me. I’m your godfather.”

Caelum squinted at him. “But Yarin’s my brother.”

“He’s not, though.” Rozrod looked annoyed. “You gotta stop calling me Dad.”

Caelum looked offended, and started to cry. “You  _ are _ my dad. I don’t want Albus.”

Rozrod looked at Albus and Scorpius helplessly.

Albus shrugged.  _ I don’t know. You are kinda his dad, though. You’ve been raising him. _

_ He only ever says he doesn’t want you.  _ Scorpius raised an eyebrow.

_ Is that really appropriate?  _ Albus scowled.

_ I can’t help thinking it.  _ Scorpius smirked.  _ Never says he doesn’t want me. _

Albus rubbed his temples, absolutely done with the conversation.

Rozrod shook his head, turning back to Caelum. “You know how he’s your grandfather?” He gestured to Harry.

Caelum nodded.

“Well, he’s Albus’ dad.”

“So?” Caelum slammed his fists on the table, lip trembling. “Lots of people are lots of people’s dads.”

“That’s not… Okay, but a grandfather is the parent of your parent.”

“He’s your dad?”

Rozrod pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, he’s not. He’s Albus’ dad.”

“And he’s Scorpius’ dad?”

Albus laughed. “That would be pretty bad, then.”

“Why?” Caelum looked to Albus, eyes wide.

Albus froze. “Ah…”

“Married people can’t have the same parents,” Scorpius supplied.

“You aren’t married,” Caelum pointed out. “You’re fuck buddies.”

“Merlin, wow!” Albus burst out laughing. “Who taught him that?”

“You can’t have a romantic relationship with someone who has the same parents as you,” Rozrod tried to intercept that dangerous conversation.

“Romantic. Ha.” Scorpius glanced at Albus, who tried to keep the hurt off his face.

Caelum put his head on the table, crying. “I want you to be my dad.”

Helena put a hand on Rozrod’s shoulder and spoke to Caelum. “It’s okay. He’s your dad if you want him to be.”

Caelum hesitated, sniffed, and lifted his head from the table. He pouted at Rozrod. “You’re married to my mum, so you’re my dad.”

Rozrod stared blankly and conceded, “Okay.”

Helena patted him on the shoulder. “Like it or not, you’re the only father figure he’s ever accepted.”

Neither Albus or Scorpius could argue.

Yarin cried from his cot.

“See?! He’s my brother!” Caelum stood up and dashed over to Yarin. “Hi, Yarin. You’re my brother. You know that.”

Rozrod sighed. “He  _ does  _ think that.”

“Doesn’t that make it true enough?” Helena stood to take care of the baby.

Rozrod looked back at Albus for help.

Albus held up his hands. “If you want him, he’s yours.”

Scorpius smacked him in the arm, but Albus could hear he agreed.

Rozrod made a choked noise of frustration. “It’s not that I don’t want him so much as  _ you two  _ should want him.”

“We want him enough,” Scorpius shrugged.

“I like him at least,” Albus agreed.

Rozrod hid his face in his hands, and Helena looked at him sadly. “How can you love him if your don’t love each other?” she spoke what Rozrod was thinking.

That took Albus’ words away. He couldn’t speak. They were right.

Scorpius nodded. “Maybe someday.”

Sadness consumed Albus from the ground up- standing in endothermic fire. Someday. Right. Someday. Not now, but maybe someday. Maybe.

Scorpius refused to give any more hope. Not that they could lie to each other anyway.

Maybe someday.

 

*******

 

It took longer than Scorpius expected. When his grandfather finally stepped out, Caelum was able to ride a broom. Nine years old.

“Why are there so many people in my mansion?”

Scorpius grinned broadly. “Welcome back.”

“Who are these muggles?” He looked in disgust at the population of refugees.

“Mostly undocumented immigrants. They’ve been here six years, there’s wizards too, though.” Scorpius laughed at the expression on Lucius’ face. “So long there’s a whole generation of mixed race, mixed blood babies.” 

Lucius shut his eyes, calming his demeanor. “You’ve done this just to spite me?”

“That’s just icing. Mostly, I actually have the capacity for altruism.” He looked over to Albus, who was taking notes for his journalism thing, in excitement. “It worked,” he called over to him.

Albus grinned, striding over. “Fun. Hey, Lucius.”

He glowered. “You will not address me thus.”

“Won’t I?” Albus looked at Scorpius in mock surprise. “Do you prefer Luci?”

Lucius clenched his fists. “This is my property.”

“Oh, it isn’t, though.” Scorpius wrapped an arm around Albus’ waist, happy beyond anything he’d felt in recent memory. Elation. “You gave it to my dad, so I got it when he died. Plus, I gave it to Caelum, so the second he turns seventeen, it’s his. Not even Malfoy, anymore. It’ll belong to the Potters.” He frowned. “I suppose we’ll have to change the name. Won’t be alliteration anymore. Sad.” He laid his head on Albus’ shoulder. “This is great day. One of the best in my life.” He hummed happily as Albus played with his hair. “So has Grandma died, then?”

“You irreverence is inappropriate and beneath even you.” Lucius scowled at them. It was great how much he was affected by everything going on.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He wasn’t remotely sad, though he’d prefer she lived to his grandfather. She was only his second least favorite grandparent. “When do you think you’ll die? Anytime soon? Ah, the hatred keeps you alive, doesn’t it? Or are you still hoping I’ll have a pureblood son with my name so you can rest easy knowing the Malfoy name is safe? I won’t. Wouldn’t risk having a daughter. Which is the only outcome if I were to marry a pureblood girl.” He held Albus tighter. “I’m good here. I think I’ll keep this up.”

Lucius regarded Albus coldly. “My children’s entanglement with the Potters is my greatest shame.”

“Your greatest?” Albus laughed. “Really? That’s quite a high bar.”

“Albus!” Caelum came running up to them. “Yarin’s on the broom.”

_ “What?!”  _ Scorpius stood up sharply, looking around. “Tell Helena, get him down.”

“I know! I’ve got it!” Rozrod called from a distance.

Celum looked up at Lucius, mouth hanging open. “Who’re you?”

“No one to you,” Lucius looked down at him with distaste.

That was apparently an unsatisfactory answer. “What’s your name, arsehole.”

“No it’s not, it’s Lucius,” Albus told him, laughing. “Though perhaps that’s more fitting.” He patted Caelum on the head, proud. “Lucius Malfoy.”

Caelum gasped, turning to Scorpius. “Is he your dad? Thought your dad was dead.”

“He is. Dead, that is. This is my grandfather, unfortunately.”

Caelum stepped forward. “Oh, the Death Eater?” Caelum pursed his lips. “Scorpius says you’re not a good person. Did you kill people? He says you did.”

Lucius looked at Scorpius incredulously. “He calls you by your name?”

Caelum scoffed. “Do you not? What else should I call him?”

“Father.”

Caelum laughed.  _ “What?!  _ Did Draco call  _ you  _ Father? What a weird thing to say. I call my dad Dad.”

“Your dad?” Lucius regarded Caelum with disdain. “Albus Potter, I presume?”

Caelum laughed again. “Albus? No, I call him Albus. That’s his name. Why should I not call people by their names? I’m gonna call you by your first name, it would be rather confusing if I called the both of you ‘Malfoy,’ wouldn’t it?”

“You’ve raised a very disrespectful child,” Lucius sneered at Scorpius.

“Wasn’t exactly my fault, but I’m not entirely regretful either.” He took Albus’ hand. “This just sort of happened. We tried to correct it, but it didn’t work. I’m actually sort of pleased we failed.”

Yarin came running up, broomstick clutched in his hand.

“Caelum!” He hid behind his brother’s legs, hiding from his dad.

“I’m not helping you, you shouldn’t be flying.” Caelum stepped away, letting Rozrod come barreling through to pull the broomstick out of his son’s hands.

“Don’t do that!”

Lucius seemed to look right over Rozrod, focussing on Yarin. “Who is this? Another family member, I dread.”

“He’s my brother,” Caelum sighed, shoving Yarin out of the way.

“You had another?” Lucius looked at Yarin like he was a gutter rat.

“No, that’s Rozrod’s kid.” Scorpius thought about how to explain. “He’s… this is… It’s all a bit confusing, and you certainly won’t approve. Shall we leave it at that?”

Lucius’ eyes finally managed to focus on Rozrod. “Ah, a Grindelwald, then.”

“Unfortunately, yes. Scorpius and I  _ both  _ have grandfather’s we’d rather not.” He grinned and tugged his son away.

Scorpius patted Caelum on the shoulder. “You’re a good kid.”

“Pft, whatever.” Caelum swatted Scorpius’ hand away and went to chase after Yarin and Rozrod.

Scorpius clapped his hands together. “Alright, then. Great visit, so glad I could cause you such distress, but I have matters to attend to. Good luck with your impending aneurysm.” He pulled Albus away, heart pounding wildly.  _ That was so much fun. _

_ He hates you so much. _

_ That’s the highest compliment I could receive. _

They strolled indoors, waving to a few volunteers as they attended to various tasks. They’d been able to greatly reduce the number of volunteers as the residents were in a better position to support themselves. They had a few nurses and a Healer and a Doctor on staff, just in case, but there was otherwise very few things to be done. He and Albus had moved into the Manor along with Rozrod, Helena, Yarin, and Caelum. Everything was much nicer. Over the past few years, he and Albus had been able to heal the injuries of their past. Scorpius had managed to relinquish his grief over his father’s death. For a while, they had slept in separate rooms, but that had gradually changed as they found themselves accidentally falling asleep in each other’s beds anyway.

_ Satisfied with your work?  _ Albus grinned, sitting down on their bed.

_ Satisfied at the success of my rebellion.  _ Scorpius sat down next to him, leaning into Albus’ side.  _ Not satisfied they still don’t have permanent residences. _

_ It’ll happen. _

_ The path to citizenship is full of obstacles. The EU’s no option since the UK left. _

_ We could go to Poland. _

_ Ha. _

_ Seriously.  _ Albus tapped his shoulder, requesting eye contact. “Bad memories, but we could try to get Poland to take in some of them. Plus, you’re pretty connected with the Turkish government, and they’re part of the EU.”

There was a loud bang of the door slamming open, and Rozrod walked in the room. “Are we going back to Poland?” He grinned. “Haven’t been home in a bit.”

Scorpius turned white. He didn’t want to. He was terrified, and he didn’t want to. The fears were irrational, but… His chest constricted, he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

Albus and Rozrod looked at him with concern. They could feel all of it.

Scorpius couldn’t help it. His heart was racing. He felt sick. Albus touched his shoulder, and it felt like being burned.  _ Don’t! _

“We don’t… you don’t have to go to Poland, mate. You can stay here, it’s fine. All you need to do is talk to them.”

Scorpius twitched. No. He didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want anything to do with that country. He never wanted to think about Poland or Gorzow or that horrible time in his life ever again. He could feel it- the flood of haze to his brain, the lack of understanding, the lack of communication, the lack of coordination. He couldn’t move his hands. He couldn’t move. Everything was regressing, he could feel it. He was falling down to that place behind reality, and he wasn’t going to be able to come back. Ever ever ever.

“You’re fine! Scorpius, you’re fine. It’s fine, we can find another country. It doesn’t matter.” Albus had gotten off the bed. Scorpius wasn’t sure when he’d done that.

He couldn’t comprehend what Albus had said. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t think and he’d never be able to think again and he was going to lose everything they’d fought so hard for. Everything his father had died for.

_ Is he-?  _ Albus asked.

“No, he’s fine. Let him ride it out.”

What did they know? Albus couldn’t tell, so how could Rozrod know he wasn’t actually regressing? Maybe it was broken- the Horcrux. Maybe they’d killed it somehow.

“You’re still a Horcrux, don’t worry.” Rozrod sounded bored. How could he be bored by it?

Scorpius laid back on the bed, his motor skills failing. “I’m gonna die!” he choked.

“You’re not. Not gonna try to fight you though, you won’t believe me.” Rozrod sat down on the side of the bed, watching Scorpius patiently. “You don’t have to go to Poland. Ever again. You don’t have to talk to them, you don’t have to do anything. It’s out of the question, you won’t go back to Poland.”

As suddenly as it started, everything stopped. Scorpius sprawled out on the bed, utterly confused. “What the hell was that?”

“Dunno.” Rozrod shrugged. “Panic attack? Flashback? Seizure? I don’t know, but you’re fine though. It’s not the blood curse.”

“Yeah.” He was fine. He was perfectly fine. Everything that had terrified him was gone. For about two minutes. It was suddenly all back, and he fell apart again. He pressed his palms into his eyes as every muscle in his body contracted at once. He groaned, fighting against the encroaching panic. He was going to have another episode, he could feel it. This is what it had been like- absolute dissociation from reality. It had been ten years, why now? Why again? He was trembling outside his own control, and everything was contracting. Again. Again. It was happening again.  _ Why? _

Rozrod sighed, but didn’t say anything.

Suddenly again, it was gone. Scorpius took deep breaths, trying to think rationally. “What  _ is  _ this?”

Rozrod backed away. “Look out, it’s gonna happen again.”

Fear. “Really?”

“Yeah, probably several more times.” He held Albus back when he tried to step forward and help. “You can’t help this, Albus. Just stay back and maybe don’t watch.”

He was right. Again- about two minutes. Two minutes of peace. Two minutes of horror. Two minutes of peace.

Eventually, Rozrod just walked out of the room. “This is taking forever, I’m gonna go get something to eat.”

Peacetime, he was shocked at how calm Rozrod was being. Scorpius was disturbed by what was happening, and he had no idea what it was.

“What is this?” he asked as Rozrod was leaving the room.

“I dunno. I’ve seen it a lot, though. From heroin addicts in withdrawal. It’s fine, it’s not a problem probably.”

_ “Probably?”  _ Spiral. Two more minutes. Two more minutes. Two more minutes.

When they were finally over- he hoped- Scorpius was exhausted. His brain was non-functionally hazy, and he felt like he’d contracted the flu.

“You okay?” Albus laid down next to him, taking his hand.

“Yeah. I think so.” He swallowed roughly. “I… I don’t wanna go to Poland.”

“No shit.”

He was both physically and emotionally drained. “What just happened?”

“How should I know?”

“I don’t want that to happen again.”

“Neither do I.”

Scorpius laid his hands over his stomach. “I feel really sick.”

“Think you’re gonna puke?”

“Probably not. Maybe.” He couldn’t bring himself to sit up. He felt like everything was in a delicate balance, and disturbing it would cause chaos. “I don’t wanna move.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Albus squeezed his hand. “Let’s not do that again.”

“Okay.” They laid like that for a long time. With a start, Scorpius felt himself drop into theta brainwave patterns. That place right before you fall asleep. He could see his dreams, though he was still somewhat awake. Strange. He could feel himself falling asleep. He was conscious as he did so, and lucid as he shifted to darkness and dreaming. It was like watching a play. He was separate from his dreams, and he waited for them to end so he could fall into that wonderful oblivion of dreamless sleep. He could sense it as he did, and everything became truly calm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh so close


	23. What Someone is Born

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do widzenia!

Like taking a breath after nearly drowning. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief sending Caelum off to Hogwarts. Wounds had been healed, slowly, over the past eight years. But Caelum… Of course, there would always be damage. However, just to know that he might end up okay, might not suffer too many long-term consequences from his childhood, might be able to love his family again someday… Forgiveness was the question on everyone’s minds as Caelum stood on the platform, white as a sheet, waiting to board the train. He clung to Rozrod’s arm, green eyes round with terror at the empty tracks.

People were staring at him. People were pointing. People were looking at Albus and Scorpius in shock and confusion.

“What am I… I mean, what should I… you know… expect?” His eyes flickered between Albus and Scorpius.

Albus shrugged.

“Don’t go in with expectations,” Scorpius advised. “Just try to enjoy yourself and make friends.”

He nodded slowly, looking quite as if the words hadn’t registered at all. He took a few shuddering breaths and looked to Helena. “What house will I be in?”

Helena considered. “I can’t really tell. Nothing is set in stone.” Maybe she was lying. Maybe she knew.

The train whistle sounded, and the bright red Hogwarts Express pulled up on the tracks.

Caelum jumped as the whistle sounded again. “Dad?”

Rozrod ruffled his hair. “It’ll be fine. You’ll be fine.”

“Go meet your friends.” Albus smiled at him. “Third generation- let’s see if the rumour is true.”

“Right, it worked for me.” Harry was standing off to the side with Ron, Hermione, and Ginny.

Caelum looked at him coldly, not answering.

Yarin squinted at Caelum, then looked at his dad. Rozrod nodded back to him.

“Rude,” Caelum complained indignantly. They talked to each other like that all the time, and Caelum felt left out. Even Helena seemed to know what they were saying, even if she couldn’t get specific words. Moments like that made him acutely aware that he wasn’t really part of that family.

“He was asking when you’ll be back,” Rozrod explained. “He’s going to miss you.”

That shut Caelum up. “Oh.”

Rozrod patted him on the back, nudging him forward. “Go ahead. We’ll see you at Christmas.”

Caelum nodded, biting his lip. He walked forward slowly, and didn’t look back. The last they saw of him was his white knuckled grip on the side of the door.

_ Think he’ll get better?  _ Albus asked.

_ Without us, he might do.  _ Scorpius looked at the empty door sadly.

“Because you won’t be around to mess him up?” Yarin asked, gripping his dad’s hand.

“Yeah.” Albus tried to breathe through the nerves in his chest.  _ You know far too much, Yarin. _

“That’s the curse. No real childhood. Never any innocence.” Rozrod squeezed Yarin’s hand.

“At least I know who to trust,” Yarin pointed out.

“Very few, isn’t it?” Rozrod looked at him sadly.

“Yes. Far too few.” Yarin looked at the floor, and it struck Albus how truly young he was. It was hard to remember sometimes. He had the maturity and wisdom of a much older man. He was eight. Not even a decade on earth, and he was so jaded and worn down. “Not jaded,” he corrected, “Aware. I understand, Dad, why you did all you did. Why you had to shut your mind down. It’s very hard to be happy if you know too much. It’s very hard to find optimism if you see past your eyes.”

Albus could feel Scorpius’ pain at that.

Yarin sighed. “I’m happy for Caelum. I’m happy he’s yours, not my dad’s. I don’t regret being born, but I know Caelum will have it much better than me. Even if he learned the world through the hell you showed him, at least he didn’t see the depths of hell that were happening below the surface.”

Everyone was looking at Yarin with stunned expressions. He rarely spoke aloud so much. He prefered his telepathy with his parents to actual speech.

“I’m not sad. You all look at me like I’m sad. I’m not. Do you want me to lay it out?” He raised his chin defiantly, dropping his dad’s hand. “I know what draws our family together. There’s no greater power at work here, but it wasn’t simple coincidence, either. Do you want to know why we’re this way and not some other way? Because we’ve all dealt with painful transitions between knowledge and naivete. Some of us on purpose,” he gestured to Albus and Rozrod, “Some of us by accident,” he pointed at Scorpius, “and some of us through our parent’s sacrifice,” he nodded to Harry. “Some of us were born to innocence, and had our childhood ripped away by war. Some of us built towers around ourselves until they broke down in rage or depression.” He glanced at Jodi. “And some of us are no longer here because of it.” He looked at Malandria, who stood with her mother alone.

Rozrod put a hand on Yarin’s shoulder.

Yarin shoved it off. “I know. Keep the secrets, right? We’re not supposed to tell them. Because it would make them sad, right? Isn’t that the point? You and I, Dad. We don’t say anything. Because knowledge is painful, and compassion destroys your soul.” He took a deep breath. “I have so much knowledge, and I protect Caelum from it. But he’s gone now, so I’m not so worried. I had to fight for Caelum not to think. I don’t want him to understand anything. That’s what school is for. It helps you not to think about life. It’s the perfect distraction until you’re seventeen and you suddenly have to confront everything at once. That’s why I won’t go to school. I’ve already faced all of that.” There was that dark, angry look in his eyes. It never went away, black circles were permanently bruised beneath them. More so than even his dad. Maybe it was because Yarin had to deal with a community of people. All the noise all the time, and people managing to notice him. Think about him personally. Maybe he just hadn’t learned to deal with it all yet. Rozrod was much older, things must get better over time.

Yarin’s face screwed up in anger. Glaring daggers at Albus. “Maybe I’ll cope like my father, too!” Rozrod pulled him back, wrapping his arms around the frustrated kid’s shoulders. “Maybe I’ll end up like James!”

“Okay, we’re going.” Rozrod picked Yarin up and started walking away. “See you at home, everyone.”

Yarin was screaming as he fought against his dad’s grip.

Helena shook her head, smiling sadly at the group. “He’ll miss Caelum.” She trotted off after her husband and son.

Everyone stood in awkward silence.

“Welp.” Albus coughed, looking at the ground. “That was a bit…”

“I’ve never heard him speak so much,” Jodi laughed, trying to lighten her daughter’s mood. “I’d honestly forgotten what his voice sounded like.”

“Quite a temper, that one,” Harry commented, a distant look in his eyes.

Albus looked at Scorpius. “Want to…?”

“Yeah, let’s leave.”

They glanced one more time at the Hogwarts express as it expelled a cloud of smoke and lurched forwards on its tracks, finally taking Caelum away from his family.

_ Guess we’ll find out where he went sometime tomorrow.  _ Albus took Scorpius’ hand.

_ Yeah. I hope he finds good people wherever he is. I’d like him to have a friend. _

_ Me too. _

 

*******

 

“Potter, Caelum.” Professor McGonagall- in her late nineties- spoke from her chair. “Your fathers… I expected something, but this was certainly not it.” She shook her head. “Step forward, take a seat.”

Caelum walked forward slowly, heart pounding in his throat. Slytherin would follow Albus and Scorpius, Gryffindor would follow his grandparents, and Ravenclaw would follow his mum. Malfoy, Potter, or Scamander? That was the question. Who did he take after most?

The hat fell low over his eyes. He clenched his fist around his wand so hard he worried he might break it.

_ What an interesting combination. I’ve seen you before, I have. You know, I’ve always sorted Malfoys Slytherin. I think they might tear me at the seams if I didn’t. _

_ I’m not a Malfoy,  _ Caelum insisted. He wasn’t. He wasn’t.

_ No? Well, I’ve generally sorted Potters Gryffindor. Except your Potter. He wanted to follow your Malfoy. _

_ I’m not a Potter either.  _ Caelum’s resolve was shaking. Wasn’t he a Potter? That was his name. Wasn’t he a Malfoy? That was his inheritance.

_ Who do you think you are? _

That question sat ominously in Caelum’s head. He didn’t know.  _ I’m not anything. _

_ Aren’t you, though? _

_ No.  _ Caelum set his jaw. He was connected with many families, but he wasn’t truly a part of any. The Malfoys had rejected him, the Potters had rejected him, and the Grindelwalds had only accepted him reluctantly. Caelum was left floating somewhere in the middle of sort-of parents and sort-of siblings. He was alone.

_ I see. Well, then. I know where you have to go. _

A resounding shout of  _ “HUFFLEPUFF!”  _ echoed through the hall.

Joyous cheers erupted from a garishly yellow-clad table, and Caelum blinked in the light as the hat was removed from his head. Stunned, he shuffled over to his new housemates who swarmed him with welcoming hugs. His tie changed color.

The Head Boy of the house towered over Caelum, but he wasn’t intimidating at all. “Welcome to the family.”

Caelum nodded, slackjawed. Welcome to the family.

 

*******

 

Yarin didn’t want to go to Hogwarts. He didn’t. He had fought with everything he had, but eventually broke under Caelum’s persuasion. He and Malandria had gone to Diagon Alley together, trailed by Dora- (“Nymphadora!” she insisted) who was beyond annoyed she couldn’t join them on the train, too young by five months.

He was silently battling with his parents as they dragged him to the platform, though they all knew he’d get on the train in the end. Caelum was getting on the train.

Yarin had every doubt. He didn’t know if he’d be able to make it seven years. He didn’t know if whatever house he was sorted into would accept him. He didn’t know anything, and that was terrifying. He knew everything. He always knew everything.

Malandria was completely calm. She had allowed her mother to dress her in the base of her uniform before they even got to the platform. Her long, black hair was braided neatly down her back, and she had a slightly haughty look like she knew the world would bow to her feet. Yarin and Helena had been betting on whether she’d be Ravenclaw or Slytherin.

Caelum grabbed Yarin by the elbow and pulled him forcibly onto the train. Rozrod and Helena were calling teary goodbyes into his head as he glowered at his fellow students.

The train ride was too long, but nobody paid any attention to him, so at least there was that. Nobody came into their compartment at all. Just him, Caelum, and Malandria sitting in relative silence. Yarin was listening to their thoughts, but there wasn’t anything interesting there. Mild nerves from Malandria, excitement from Caelum, and distant echoes of wordless emotions through the walls of the compartment.

_ We’re pulling up! _

_ Oh, wow, back to school. Merlin, that was a short break. _

_ What should I do with these extra cakes? _

_ Can’t wait to get back to the dorms. _

Other such babble.

Caelum separated from him and Malandria. Nobody else sat in their boat. A terrible warning feeling washed over Yarin. He realized he wasn’t sure whether or not people actually  _ could  _ pay attention to him.

_ What’s the longest amount of time I’ve been away from Mum? _

He faced the doorway to the great hall, and suddenly he was full of anxiety. Nobody was looking at him.

_ I should leave. Let’s leave. Test if anyone notices. Merlin, if they don’t- _

“Step forward.” The crowd of first years tumbled through the archway. Yarin couldn’t think. Everyone was getting sorted, and he could barely make his eyes focus. He scanned the Hufflepuff table for Caelum, who was waving at him.

_ Good luck! _

Yarin nodded. He was to go before Malandria. Alphabetical.

“Grindelwald, Yarin.”

Gasps from around the room, people muttering his surname. The Slytherins sat up straight.

Yarin walked forward anxiously and took a seat on the stool. He shut his eyes tight as the hat was placed on his head.

Nothing.

He heard nothing. The hat said nothing. Yarin wanted to laugh, because of course it didn’t. Looking close, he could see the four whispering voices of the founders within the hat’s consciousness. His heart was pounding. He should stand up. Nothing was going to happen, he should stand up.

It took a while for people to notice he’d done anything. He stood with the hat in his hands, unsure whether to laugh or cry. He couldn’t cry. Not in front of everyone. So, he laughed. He grinned at Caelum, whose expression perfectly matched that of Malandria and McGonagall.

Muttering. People had noticed.

Biting his lip, Yarin set the hat on the stool and looked at the teachers. “What do I do? It won’t sort me.”

Nobody seemed to know. Apparently, in all the history of Hogwarts, the hat had never failed to sort a single student.

“I- I suppose…” McGonagall shook her head in stunned amazement. “I suppose you choose.”

Yarin nodded, looking out over the school. What a decision. Hufflepuff- that’s where Caelum was. It would be wrong to go there. Caelum needed that family more than Yarin needed him. Gryffindor- they’d certainly reject him. Grindelwald. Never. Slytherin- they seemed to want him. They seemed to expect him. Ravenclaw- well, he certainly knew quite a lot. Too much. Everything. Not Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, then. Blue or green? He needed to make a decision quick, people were staring. The Ravenclaws were sizing him up, he could hear their analysis. They were making assumptions and trying to figure out why he wasn’t being sorted. They were curious about him. They wanted to know who he was- no. They wanted to know why he was. The Slytherins were sitting back, waiting for him to walk over. On his name alone, they had decided he was one of them. So- lab project or Grindelwald? Either way, nobody would care who he really was. Nobody would, anyway, if it turned out he actually was like his dad. So, don’t worry about the people, then. He wondered if maybe he should just not decide and go back home. What culture would he prefer? Easy. The one in which people didn’t think so loudly. The one in which people got right to the point of their idea and didn’t bother with ruminating analysis. The one in which people just did. No thought, just action.

“Gryffindor.”

The Slytherins were shocked. He could hear every question in their minds. He could feel every analytical bit of data running through their brains. Then, they ceased to care. The Ravenclaws managed to continue their caring until he sat down, then the barrage of thinking stopped.

The Gryffindors were staring at him in silence. Nobody clapped, they just watched. Every thought was the same.  _ You sure?  _ Yarin smiled, confident he’d made the right decision. They wouldn’t like him, but they didn’t have to. They’d be quiet. Yarin could relax around them. There was no judgement, but no acceptance. They’d leave him alone.

Happiness. That’s what Yarin decided he felt as he watched the rest of the sorting. He watched a line of students thoughtlessly be sorted with no interruption. Name, house. Name, house. That’s all Yarin heard. He sat up straighter when he heard “Potter, Malandria,” called out. She walked slowly to the stool, head tilted to the floor.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Yarin laughed. Alright, then. Neither he nor his mother won the bet. Malandria wasn’t smiling when she sat next to Yarin. He knew why. She was in Gryffindor. Like her dad. She’d wanted Ravenclaw. Like her mum. Regardless, Yarin was glad to be with her.

_ Do you think I’m like him?  _ Malandria thought, unable to look up from the table.

“He was good, your dad. You should be proud to be like him.”

Malandria’s lip trembled.  _ I never knew him to be good. _

“I’ve seen him in the minds of everyone who knew him. He was good. They loved him. He loved you.”

Malandria curled up against him, hiding her face in his robes.  _ Mum will be scared for me. _

“She won’t,” Yarin assured. “She would be overjoyed if you were anything like James. She fell in love with him, then he made mistakes. Sometimes people make mistakes.”

Malandria choked on a sob, and Yarin could feel the effort she was expending not to cry more.  _ This is so embarrassing. _

Yarin smiled sadly. “Nobody’s looking at you. You’re in my aura, apparently.” Strange. He’d never been outside of his mother’s aura. Was he really so closely tied to his family?

_ I hate my dad. _

“You don’t.”

_ He was a bad person. _

“Do you think  _ my  _ dad’s a bad person?”

_ No. _

“Well, then. Mine got lucky, yours didn’t. That’s how it goes sometimes.” Yarin tried to be honest with her. He didn’t want to subject her to patronising platitudes, or assure her of things that weren’t true. He had more respect for her than that. Malandria was smart, she’d know.

_ Okay. _

 

*******

 

Albus and Scorpius sat on their bed in silence. Everything sat in silence. The manor was empty. At last. The refugees were gone, the kids were gone, Jodi was even gone. Only Albus, Scorpius, Rozrod, and Helena remained. The two couples lived on opposite sides of the manor, so even though they were there, they rarely saw each other.

_ I feel like there’s a conversation we should have,  _ Albus thought.

Scorpius nodded.  _ Not sure what it is, but I agree. _

Albus twisted the sheets between his fingers, trying to keep his thoughts quiet as he figured out what to say.  _ All the kids are gone. _

_ Yeah. _

_ Caelum’s thirteen. _

_ Yeah. _

_ And we’re still here. _

_ Yeah. _

So that’s what it was. Were they together for the kids, for the Horcrux, or for each other? Now that everything was calm, they could find out.

_ This has been so long coming, I don’t know if I want to think about it.  _ Albus couldn’t look him in the eyes.

“I don’t know what to say.” Scorpius’ eyes were blank. Albus couldn’t read them.

“Do you love me yet?”

“I suppose.”

Satisfactory.

“I don’t know if that’s enough, though. It’s different. We’re different. From how we were as teenagers.” Yeah. They weren’t seventeen. They were thirty one. Wow.

Albus nodded. “I’ve been with you most of my life. I have no idea who I’d be without you.”

“Doesn’t that bother you?” Scorpius looked him in the eyes, some sort of plea in his expression.

“Not at all.” Albus was perfectly confident. “I don’t believe in soulmates. I don’t believe in the idea that one person can be everything you want, or everything you need. And I don’t think I need to be alone to know who I am. You’re a part of who I am. I love you with the calm amicability of someone who’s been in love for a very long time. That’s what I am.” He had to break eye contact. It hurt. “When we were young, there was a lot of frantic drive. Obsessive love. That was good for then, but we can’t get that back, and I don’t think we should. Now, I love you deep within my bones. I love you in a way that tells me I’ll love you forever. I’ll love you through fighting and hate and joy and sadness. Whatever I think about you, that love will stay. Our time of obsessive love is gone, but traumas of the past didn’t break it. It would have broken anyway. Or at least… it would have faded into what it is now. I love you in a way that makes me content just to be near you. In a way that everything is just a bit better if you’re around. Sustaining love.”

Scorpius’ thoughts were blank. Albus looked up to see him staring with tears in his eyes. “That’s… a really good point. Conceded.”

Albus grinned. “Glad I could debate you into loving me.”

Scorpius grinned. “Oh, yeah. You’re a master debater.”

“Pft. Terrible.” Albus leaned in and kissed him gently. “That was terrible.”

Scorpius kissed him back. Calm. Satisfactory. No real need for anything more.

Well… no  _ need.  _ Albus pulled Scorpius closer.

“We should have another kid,” Scorpius said suddenly, stopping Albus in his tracks.

Albus froze. “What?”

Scorpius backed up. “Not our own, obviously. Wouldn’t want to risk having a girl. But… we should get one. From somewhere.”

“Get one,” Albus repeated. “From somewhere.”

Scorpius nodded. “I want to do a good job this time. Raise it ourselves.”

Albus didn’t quite know how to respond. He felt frozen in time. “I… Okay.”

“Okay.” Scorpius leaned back down to kiss him, resuming activities.

 

*******

 

A little Wizard Roma baby. From Poland. Ha. Scorpius had refused to go along to the orphanage to pick him up. For months after they’d managed to get the paperwork through, he’d been in a near constant state of anxiety or illness. Albus had to struggle to not even think about Poland or the orphanage. Every time a thought slipped through, Scorpius would lock up and refuse to speak for at least an hour. He hated that country with a phobic terror. Albus thought it was ridiculous, but he couldn’t talk Scorpius out of it. That only made things worse.

Things got better when they finally brought the baby back to England.

The kid glared at them from his cot, like he was annoyed they’d dared to adopt him. Light brown skin, wide golden eyes, and thick black hair that stuck straight up. They’d named him for James.

Caelum was looking at the baby wordlessly. “You got another.” He scowled at Albus and Scorpius. “Didn’t bother with me, but you got another.”

Albus ignored him.

Caelum gestured at his family, who shrugged at whatever wordless complaint he had thought at them.

Ginny picked the baby up, holding him on her hip. He was already seven months old, and entirely contemptuous of his new family. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked. Ginny cringed, gently prying his hand open. “Don’t.”

As much as Caelum protested, their family felt complete.

Rozrod stared at the baby, listening. Slowly, a smile stretched across his face. “He thinks in Polish.”

“He thinks?” Albus looked at the baby in confusion.

“Yeah, he’s seven months. He’s got basic language already, he just can’t probably speak.” Rozrod took James’ hand and said something to him that Albus had no means of understanding.

The glowering expression on James’ face grew calm, and he reached out for Rozrod to take him.

“Wonderful!” Caelum tossed his hands in the air, storming over to the couch. “You’re gonna give the new baby to my dad as well, aren’t you? You guys suck at children! You know you’re supposed to raise them yourselves, right? Not just pass them over to some guy and hope for the best.” Caelum’s dour demeanor was ruined somewhat when he pulled his knees to his chest.

_ We hurt his feelings,  _ Scorpius shrugged at Albus.  _ What do we do? _

_ Probably nothing, right? I understand why he’s upset; we gave him up, then had another baby.  _ Albus looked to Rozrod for support.

“Don’t know what to tell you, guys.” Rozrod looked over his shoulder to where Caelum was glaring. “He’ll probably never get over this, and I don’t blame him. Still, there’s nothing you can do. He’s jealous. Wouldn’t you be?”

_ Yeah.  _ Albus rubbed his eyes tiredly.  _ I sometimes forget he’s my son. _

_ Me too,  _ Scorpius admitted.  _ Plus, the only reason we ever had him was because my brain was so fucked up I needed a baby to live. _

_ Didn’t matter in the end, did it?  _ Albus pressed his palms to his temples, trying to stay the headache that was threatening to become a migraine.

“It did, though. A lot.” Rozrod looked confused. “What are you talking about? Scorpius would have died.”

“Really?” Scorpius raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah, wow. Surprised you don’t remember. It was… the more you improved, the more rigidly you had to follow rules, right? The better you were, the more that was expected of you. If you hadn’t carried him through all of that, especially with Albus leaving, you almost certainly would have died.” He looked at Yarin, who nodded sharply. Rozrod continued, “Yeah, having a baby- a male baby- was likely the only thing that kept you from falling apart when Albus left, Scorpius. It kept you in stasis while we figured everything out.

“Huh.” Scorpius looked at Caelum, who was staring fixedly at the wall away from them. “Caelum.”

“What.”

“This is a big family. We need everyone together to survive. You know we love you, right?”

“Shut up, Scorpius, I don’t need that shit.”

Albus tried not to laugh.

“I’m fucking angry.”

The mood shifted in an instant.

Albus nodded. “Yeah. Of course you are.”

Caelum didn’t look back. “You only had me as a lifeline, then you dropped me right off into someone else’s hands. You didn’t even walk away, you just stayed there and ignored me. Then, everyone blamed all the violence and hatred on me. Do you think I didn’t feel that? Even just two years ago, James got blamed on me. Because if only we hadn’t ever fought.  _ It was Albus’ fault. It was Caelum’s fault.  _ It was  _ James’ _ fucking fault. Then Mum and Dad had their own real kid, and the fact that I was different from them was shoved in my face. Scorpius never even celebrates my birthday because he’s too wrapped up in the fact that it’s the day Draco died. So my age is just counting the number of years he’s been alone.” He curled up on himself, folding his hands behind his head. “You think it’s funny, the things I said as a kid. Because I didn’t know what I was saying. It’s not funny. It’s really really fucked up.” Yarin went over to sit next to him. Caelum continued, “And now you have another kid because you couldn’t make it work with me. Because you gave up on me. How do you think that kid’s gonna feel about that? The fact that he’s a do-over? I can’t imagine he’s gonna enjoy it. He already prefers Dad to you two. What a great start to this whole new sack of shit.”

If there was one benefit to having a family of mind-readers, it was that nobody tried to conceal anything. Apparently. Everything was laid on the table. Even if it was incredibly hurtful.

“So you’ll forgive me if I’m a bit skeptical when you say you love me, because I know I’m only ever second-best.”

Nobody seemed to know what to say. “Well, that was pretty dark,” Harry piped up from the sidelines.

Caelum scowled at him. “Thanks for everything you did to me, too. What a great vocabulary I was given.”

Yarin put a hand on Caelum’s back, and Rozrod nodded, walking over to hand the baby to him.

Caelum looked at his new brother with attempted annoyance. He broke quickly. “It’s not your fault. Merlin, I can’t believe they named you after James. You’re gonna be a do-over for both of us, then.”

James looked back at Caelum with absolute distaste.

“Yeah, I feel the same, dickhead.”

“Caelum!” Everyone.

“You really gonna call me out on this? Really? Is that how little you care about what you did to me?” He scowled, holding the baby to his chest.

Yarin leaned against him, touching the baby’s head. “Do you want him to have a better life than you?”

Caelum got quiet.

“He has a chance at a decent childhood. He has a chance at good parents, and good siblings. You have to protect the innocent, they need you.” He glanced at his dad, who must have said something back, because Yarin took James from Caelum. “Why don’t we bury the hatchet?” He gestured to Albus and Scorpius, who stepped forward.

Caelum stared at them, considering his options. He stood. “Do better.”

Scorpius could barely look him in the eyes. “How could we not?”

Albus didn’t like thinking about Caelum. He didn’t like thinking about the fact Caelum was theirs and not Rozrod’s. The fact that he’d been abandoned the day he was born. The fact that he’d grown up the way he did.

“I’m not going to come over and hug you. I’m not going to cry and say I forgive you, cause I don’t.” Caelum stood firm with his arms at his sides. “But I will gain back some respect for you if you do well by this kid. Got it?”

_ Yes,  _ Albus and Scorpius thought to each other. They nodded. There was nothing else to say. Sorry would be useless. Only actions would prove change. It would be a long process. It would be years before they could put together something resembling a normal family.

Yarin brought James over to them, and Scorpius took the grumpy child in his arms. They stood, the family of four, in shame and anger and distrust.

Rozrod rubbed his eyes and sighed. “Ah, damnit.” He walked over and wrapped his arms around Caelum from behind. “You’ve been mine since the day you were born, kid. You gotta know you’re part of our family.”

Caelum leaned back into his dad, eyes turning to the floor. “Yeah.”

Rozrod reached out to squeeze baby James’ hand. “Albus and Scorpius and now James are a part of our family as well. We’re a weird, patchwork family, but it mostly works. Not always, but usually.”

“Mhm.” Caelum turned around to hide his face in Rozrod’s chest. He looked young. Not fourteen at all. It was clear how much the whole situation was affecting him. “Will you adopt me?”

The room went silent.

“Will I…” Rozrod stared into nothingness, arms around his… son, right? Godson.

It was like a knife in Albus’ heart, and he could feel Scorpius felt the same. Caelum had always been Rozrod’s more than he had ever been Albus or Scorpius’, but… To be that explicit about it. Wow. The idea of adoption had never been mentioned before. Honestly, there had always been some sort of underlying feeling that Caelum would go back to Albus and Scorpius someday. After fourteen years, it still felt temporary, Rozrod’s parenting. Caelum called him Dad, he called Helena Mum, and he called Yarin his brother, still, there was an understanding that those titles were only a formality extended to Caelum out of compassion. Terms he’d decided on as a kid that had just never left his vocabulary. They’d never corrected him on those words, but they were wrong. His last name was Potter. He was the heir to Malfoy Manor. He wasn’t a Grindelwald. He wasn’t.

The pause seemed to hurt Caelum. “Do you not want me?” There was no anger in his words. It was a genuine question, which made it all the more painful to hear.

Rozrod was staring at him in silent amazement. “I… I do, but-”

“But not enough.” Caelum looked away. “That’s okay.” He hid his face behind his hands. “Patchwork. I’m sewn in there somewhere, so it’s okay.” His voice was shaking. “Albus and Scorpius and James are together, and you and Mum and Yarin are together. I’m somewhere, too. I’m in between. That’s just as good.” He didn’t sound like he believed it. “I’m still part of the family, I’m part of both families, right?” He turned away from the group. “It’s good, that’s more than most people have. Two families.” He wiped his eyes and took a deep breath before turning around. “Forget I said anything.”

Albus and Scorpius looked at each other, a wordless conversation passing between them.

Albus nodded at Rozrod.  _ You should adopt him. _

_ Please,  _ Scorpius added.

Rozrod nodded, turning to Helena, who nodded her agreement as well. Yarin looked annoyed.

“They’re gonna adopt you, Caelum.” He rolled his eyes at his brother. “If you want that. Doesn’t matter to them or me, you’re already a part of the family as much as I am, but if it means something to you, they’re gonna adopt you.”

The effort of thought suppression slid off Caelum’s face. He stood silent, letting his family read his mind.

“Okay, then,” Rozrod said, grinning. He looked at the baby, “ Co o tym myślisz?”

Huge rush of adrenaline from Scorpius through their thought connection, and Albus pulled the baby away before Scorpius could drop him.

Rozrod looked at Scorpius with concern.

James squinted at Rozrod and pouted. “Nie.”

Rozrod laughed, “Wow, he can say that? That’s really impressive.”

Scorpius took Albus’ hand, squeezing it tightly.

_ It’s okay,  _ Albus assured.

_ I know. We gotta teach him English. _

_ You know this is ridiculous, right? Your reaction? _

_ I know.  _ He held Albus’ hand in a vice grip. It hurt.

Rozrod stuck out his tongue at James. “Daj mi twój brat.”

“Nie!” Possibly the only word he knew. Albus figured it meant no.

“You don’t know what you’re saying, kid,” Rozrod told the baby. “I’m gonna do it anyway. Jesteś mały. What are you going to do?”

James looked highly offended.

“Take him for a minute.” Albus passed the baby to Rozrod.  _ You gotta calm down,  _ he told Scorpius.  _ This is incredibly irrational. _

_ I know! _

_ You can’t blame Poland for the stuff you went through. Come on. You’re blaming a location for something that happened while we were just going to that location. It didn’t even happen in Poland, the Czech doctor saved you, and the Polish doctors fixed you. Come on. _

“This is kind of a big ‘fuck you’ from the universe, though.” Rozrod looked amused. “That they sent you a Roma-Polish baby.”

_ Yeah. Wow.  _ Scorpius relaxed his grip on Albus’ hand. “I don’t blame the kid, it doesn’t bother me about him. Just… hearing that language. That’s all I heard when I didn’t have any language at all. That language filled my nightmares, intentional gibberish I couldn’t respond to.”

“Yeah, I get it.” Rozrod shrugged, passing the baby to Caelum. “You need to teach him English. Actively. Sit down and teach it to him, because he’s already acquired Polish.”

Caelum and James were in a staredown, closely monitored by Yarin.

Rozrod sighed, getting back to the point. “Why is it you want to be adopted, Caelum?”

Caelum didn’t break eye contact with James, who was staring at him with equal determination. “I don’t want to stutter over the word ‘Dad’ anymore.”

Something changed in Rozrod’s eyes. Significant. “Yes, I understand. You shouldn’t have to. It’s true enough.”

“It’s true enough,” Caelum repeated, still staring at James. “But it’s not true.” He gave up on his contest with James and passed him off to Yarin. “I want a family. A real family.” He glanced at Albus coldly before turning back to address his dad. “And I want your name.”

Ouch. Took a lot of hatred to prefer Grindelwald to Potter.

Rozrod nodded. “Okay. We can do that.” A moment passed, and Rozrod frowned. “Don’t say that out loud.”

Caelum ignored him. “I want to officially cut ties with both the Potters and the Malfoys. I’m done being tethered to them.”

Woah. Anxiety feedback through Albus and Scorpius’ connection. They drew closer to cut it off.

Rozrod nodded. “Okay. Then that’s what we’ll do.”

 

*******

 

James was the happiest. The journey had concluded with that baby, and he was the happiest. Whatever came next, it was up to him. He grew up supported in a nurturing environment, the only child in a large manor that housed only three people. He owned everything, entire floors were devoted to him, and whatever he needed, he was supplied. He loved his parents, and they loved him. Interesting, how the families had been sewn together. Caelum became a Grindelwald, and Albus became a Malfoy.

Like father like son, perhaps. They both wanted out, and they both left. In the end, the families weren’t broken. They weren’t broken within themselves, at least; they had just diverged into their own little families. Better. Calmer. Safer.

Everything was mostly okay, and that’s all you can ever ask for. Mostly okay.

Maybe family was the real moral of the story. Who you choose, that’s your family. Harry hadn’t accepted the Dursleys, Albus hadn’t accepted the Potters, Caelum hadn’t accepted the Malfoy-Potters, and Scorpius hadn’t accepted the Malfoys. Nobody wanted what they were given, so they chose something else. Everybody ran away from something their family had presented them with as well. Be it curses or violence or neglect or supremacy, everyone ran away to find something better. Maybe their new choices wouldn’t last either. Who knew? But it worked for the moment, and that was mostly okay.

Everything was mostly okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp.
> 
> See y'all around.


End file.
